Skip to main content

Full text of "The Coast"

See other formats


This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project 

to make the world's books discoverable online. 

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject 

to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books 

are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover. 

Marks, notations and other maiginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the 

publisher to a library and finally to you. 

Usage guidelines 

Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the 
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing tliis resource, we liave taken steps to 
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying. 
We also ask that you: 

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for 
personal, non-commercial purposes. 

+ Refrain fivm automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine 
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the 
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help. 

+ Maintain attributionTht GoogXt "watermark" you see on each file is essential for in forming people about this project and helping them find 
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it. 

+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just 
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other 
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of 
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner 
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liabili^ can be quite severe. 

About Google Book Search 

Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers 
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web 

at |http: //books .google .com/I 

f 1 

, ( 

. J" 

\ '• 

> 1- - _ ■• 

) '■, 

-' s / 


,, - J 

- - . - ' - ^' -It, ■ V ; 

' - / . . -"'' y^- -" ^ . '/"-■"- 


■-^i , ,- 

• '^ 

• \-' 

f ^ . 

'"'' * i ' '■• 


4 ' • ' - 


N '"' ) 


y' ,- ■' ' 

''' ;:"- v^ 



1 ' ' I 



, ^ ' ' 

^1 ^ 

' '"■ '*. ^- '^ ■ 

; '\ 

' . r"^ - 


'■-■^'^ ^ '• 


"^ - 


, - ^ 

1 ^ J 


,-, f 

I *• 

. i 

■ '^ 

'■ i 

— . '- ' 

- >■■ J' 



-, -» 

1 . . 

^ ' 



-\' /■ 



\ .■ 

. M 


■i c 


. \ 

y^' V 



' 1 . ;- \ 
^ > S 1 ' 1 


,, ■■:, v.. 

■ '-/ - ■ 

, ' 


I- '-\ y 

/ . 

A ^" ; 

< ( 


J ' 

V .;> 

J '-' ■. '^ .-- 

^' \ 

T \ 




, 4 


/ '■ 

'->. '-■ 


J^ . 

•'^' 1 , ' 




''/ ' ) 


, A- 


^ ""- 

' '^\ 


,-j^ : 


,;-^ '" 

■>'\ ' ,\ 

\i ' 

*-, K 

'.:' \ 



V ' " 

'^^ *^-*^ 

f "lit 


J- * ^ 






r > 




! ' / 

-* '*; 

, ; ' <" 




'.'- ' V 


f , » 

L 1 

■ ^,''- 

- ' ' -■ J 

' ;^ V " 

^ ' 

1 # 

) , 




•n '" I -'. 

*-*- — - ■^■. * ^ ^ 

* * 


; > ^ 

■\v. ". 

m ■■■T~^ ».-t _>^ ^ P^. •VJI S. / , . " -, ' .f' , -^ i ', .11 . , >■ r" - ' ' " ' • 

. f 


*! ^ v. 

^ 'c 

J :'r 






- • V \ \ 

'^i J 




ieU^;',- 0/>o.,t- '"■■-• .'':--r-^ , '^ /A-, --^rN^ ----- --' -■• '-' ^'-' -- /f^.'v-^ ^'-■--•' 

f^\''r/^^.0b r ^^ ": V: - ■; ^ - .^ . ^ y^v :-/'SV >~-^ .■ :, ^^V'- ^p V^\ ;':-:- VS'^i V > -- 




- - . \ 

\ . ^ 


. ) 


i ■ 


r \ 

i ■ • 


1 —^ .^, 


' I I 

»- 1 

. j. ** 






H 1929 L 

Ck>pyright 1902 by 

From the Press of The Metropolitan Press, Inc. 

Seattle U. S. A. 


I 11 I f I M I I I I ' I ■ III I I'lifyi 


Adams County, Wasbbifirtoo, Where Golden -Grain Is Garnered in. (Illustrated.) 8 


Personal From the Editor — New Year's Day — The Coming Conflict — A Broad Hint — My 
Grandmother — To Be Considered — Thomas B. Reed — The Fancy Steal — Should Be 
Watched 89, 40, 41. 42 

The Pride of the West— Passion Not Love — The Broken Heart— The Black Sheep — The West- 
ern Bachelor — Capt. Raton and Bremerton — The Difference — South Carolina's Disgrace — 
Live and Do — The Building of a Home .• 79, 80. 81 

America's Weakness — Henry M. Teller — Levi Ankeny — Help(?) From an Enemy — Jones and 
Cushman Vote — John B. Allen — The Face for a Plug Hat — The Hangers-On — Apostle 
Reed Smoot — The Man of the Day — Friendless — The Reason Why — The Poor Girl — How 
They Died— The Peace of Love — The Fruit of Politics— Rich atid Poor — Strength to 
Do 116, 117, 118, 119, 120 

Political Fruits— Are We Savage?— The Dope Fiend 165, 166 

When Hard Times Come — Scab — The Average Weekly Paper — Too Much Hot Air — A Sure- 
Thing Game — The Bachelor Girl — ^Why Grand Juries Fall — Whose Is the Crime — The 
Time to Think — The Growth of Thb Coast — An Editor's Plea — Volumes Four and Five — 
The President Still Lives — Another Roosevelt Story — Coastwise 196, 197, 198, 199 

The Dangerous Woman — Woman's Emancipation — Be Good — Baking Powder — Why So Selfish ? 
— Don't Give Up — A College Education — When China Awakens — Science and the Bible — 
Love of God Is Love of Man — For a Husband — Not Money, but Brawn Builds — Grafting 
a Sign of Good Times — Who Pays the Bill? — Should Name the Man — Church Social Par- 
able 232. 233, 234, 236, 236 

Bicycle Paths Near Seattle. (Engraving.) 122 

Bonney Lake. Eleven Miles From Cheney. (Engraving.) 104 

Books and Periodicals 43, 84, 121, 167, 202. 238 


The Flowers (Poem), by Geo. T. Thompson — Queries From Correspondents — Additional Char- 
ter Members — Successful Seattle Authors — Notes 44 

Additional Charter Members — Questions and Answers — Unanswered and New Questions ... 82. 83 
Miss March (Poem), by D. J. Ilinchen — Success (Quotations compiled by Agnes Deans Cam- 
eron) — Questions and Answers — Unanswered and New Questions — Additional Members 

123. 124. 125 

Miss May (Poem), by D. J. Hinchen — May (Poem) — Greeting — Questions and Answers — T'n- 

answered and New (Questions — Additional Members — Notes 200, 201 

Confidential Chat — Spring (Poem) — Questions and Answers — Book Notes 237, 238 

Constantia Virtutas Est. Jean McLeod 190 

Chehalis and Lewis County, Washington. (Illustrated.) 105 

Dairy Farm, Near Olympla. (Engraving.) 168 

Dead Girl's Double, A. Lue Vernon 191 

Douglas County, Watervllle and. (Illustrated.) 54 

-Falsh" Man. The. Bertha Powers 4 

Falls at Indian Spring, near Melrose. Idaho. (Engraving) 76 

First Building on Lake Washington. (Drawing by J. Wehn.) 101 

Forest Scene in Clallam County. Washington. (Engraving.) 53 

Fortunate Error, A. See M. Smoke 174 


January — Snoqualmle Falls 1 

February — George Washington 45 

March — Pioneer Square. Seattle 85 

April— The April Yacht 133 

June — Our Pretrtdent ''^63 


North Cove Lighthouse, The. near Ilwaco. Washlngtn 2 

Pharaoh's Horses 1 34 

United States Cruiser Olympla, The 204 

Wb-- Your Reply? 46 

Yakl : a River In Front of Zlllah. Washington 86 

How a Western City Grows — Hoqulam. Washington. (Illustrated.) 206 

Hoqniam, Washington. (Illustrated.) 206 

Jimmle and Plledriver. J. L. Ashlock 102 

Lewis jCounty, Washington, Chehalis and. (Illustrated.) 105 

Maffy More Attends a Smoker. (Illustrated.) Peter Farley 22.'i 

Maffy More In New York. (Illustrated. ) Peter Farley 1 87 

MaflFy More Visits the Mayor. (Illustrated.) Peter Farley 144 

Million Dollar Mistake. A. Lon C. Brown 14 

Most Westerly Park in Canada, The. (Illustrated.) Agnes Deans Cameron 171 

Mount Rainier. (Engraving. ) 1 78 

New and Strange In Seattle, The. (Illustrated.) Peter Farley 108 

New Year's Call. A. Agnes Deans Cameron 141 

Nomenclature of Puget Sound. Charlotte L. Hammer ^^ 

Of Early Days In Olympla. John Miller Murphy 1<*<(> 


Old Flint's Rejuvenation. Herbert Lawrence Greene .„„ 

Olympla the Beautiful. (Illustrated.) John Miller MuriHiy 186 


""'(Ilfustrated.T"johS''M^n™ Muriil'iy'. '.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.]'.'.'.'.'.','.'.','.',','.'.'.','.'. 

A Joker Joked^A Narrow Escape — Not Enough to Qo ArouDd — Stole a Con rtliouBC— Defended 

Hl8 Wife's Virtue— A Novel Entertainment 35, 36, 87 

Wouldn't Build It, but Bought It— The Arrest ol Curlej- Jim— Suited Him to a Dot 77, T8 

The Sam plea Were Pure^A Very Dense Landlord — Senator B "a Ruse — Good Advice — A 

Moat Wonderfnt Feat— Smofced Tea— Was Here'lltary 113, 114, 115 

Why Thompson "Bm lied' ■—Wouldn't Get There— Tale of an Indian Scare— He Drew a 

Cheek 162, 168 

Tbey Fooled Him— The Drummer Said No More — Just Like Othera— A Peculiar Incident — 

Was Quite Shocked- A Hot Retort- Averted Hard Times 1D3, 194, ISH 

No BoodllDg In Early Dajra — Wllllama and His Sage Hen — Unionism Uaa Its Sorrowa- 
SomethlDE Wrong— A Tecullar Coincidence— Tested Courage Anyway — Overcrowded 

With KlcSers 

Pactflc County, Washington, (Illuatrated.) 

Tllle, Nahcotta, Ilwaco ij 

Preaton, Harold, of Seattle. (Engraving.) 48 

Romance of Two Wars, The. (Illustrated.) Henry Burns Geer 58 

Sage Brnah Itemlnlscencea. (Illuatrated.) Hon. Miles Canon 83 

Shattered Idol, A. (Illuatrated) John B. M. Shea 23 

Singer end the Soul, The. (II lust rated.) Jobn E. McDonald 70 

Strategy of 'Raatus. The. Henry Bnms Geer 163 

Triumph of Michael Seara, The 1«, H3, ftU, 146, 170, 220 

Turning of tbe Worm, The. Agnes Deans Cameron 50 

Valdea, Alaska. (Engraving.) 164 

Washington Congreaamen-Elect : (Illuatraled.) Will E. Unmptrejr, Francis W. Cualiman. Wesley 

L, Jones 6, 6. 1 

Watetvllle and Dougiss County. (Illustrated.) 54 

Where Golden Grain Is Garnered In Adama County, Washington: KltzTllle and l.lnd. (Illus- 
trated.) 9 

Woodland Drive lu Beacon Hill rark. Victoria. B, C .*. (Engraving.) 170 



Ad Maecenatem. (Horace, Ode One. Book One.) 228 

CoDversloD, The 52 

Gnard of Love, The 166 

Life Conld Not Be 57 

Uorulng. Orrlll V. Stapp 26 

Mr Hero. (In Honor of Lincoln's Birthday.) 62 

New Year's Horns. E. A. P 18 

Song of Hope, The 8 

Song ol the Tollers 87 

Soul of Love, The, Honor L. Wllhelm 135 

SulcldB's Lament, The 205 

To a Dogwood Blossom. Linda Jennings 177 

To a Greek Vaae. K. P«ul Rathbun 154 

To the Brooitlet. Belle McLean 112 

Tme Love's Valentine 76 

Way of Life, The. John B. M. Sbea 173 

Way at Lite, The.. "" 

What Your Reply? (With Frontispiece.) 



V 1 Tw V 1! % 1 1t f w w y V ^ ■■■<■ ■■>-' v V ^-s-r^ 

; 1 1. WACO, WiaHIKOTOM. 




nth Hi 

Jli Within my soul, when clouds hang low, ftj: 

^ And worn and weary, on I go, \lflj 

ll(h Hard-pressed by sorrow and despair, k^ 

•'• Hope's music comes to quell my fear — ^^ 

Beyond the cloud-veiled skies I see 

The place my God has made for me. 

W Life, at its best, lasts but a day; % 

Why not be happy 'long the way? ^ 



/rr Fear flutters 'round my aching heart; jvl 

^ At its dark, flapping wings I start, w 

^ Then, peering out beyond, I see * \ljff 

The joys my God reserves for me. 


W No joy of earth so great can be \ijff 

(n[ As hope of life God gives to me: — M 

^ The chill of earth may close around, ^^ 

W My feet be soiled by muddy ground, 

(l(h My hands be stained by filth I know. 

/nrv My spirit broken down by woe. ^xv 

W But, for it all, my soul is free vfjP 

If^ To grasp the hope God tenders me — ^ 

The hope, for all I now endure, 

I can and will be true and pure. 


tfT^ Ah, yes! A failure I may be, 

•^* But great success God holds for me, .y. 

If I, in faith, but struggle on. \i)ll 

Then victory complete is won; M 

Then have I gained life's treasured crown ^*^ 
And rise unscathed, though trodden down 
Great hope from God! Sweet joy divine! 

All fadeless wealth of love is mine ^ 

Because I hold eternally uCV 

The promise God has made to me. ^ 

Cepyrigkt, IWZ, by Honor L. WilkolH. 


The ^^Faish'' Man 

Bv Beutha Powers, Everett, Washington. 

He was an old fish man. He was tall and 
broad-shouldered, with hair and beard of an 
indescribable color; not black, not white, 
nor yet gray, but a complexity of the three 
that resulted in a hue more akin to deep blue 
than aiur other. 

Let it not be thought from this that he 
was a second Blue-beard. Quite the con- 
trary, at least in regard to wives. He had 
not one. He was wedded to his art. 

It is the art of fine' arts to draw finned 
beauties out of the deep, blue sea; to so 
beguile and entice them that they willingly 
desert their homes, suffer torture and give 
up their lives for the sake of satisfying the 
great desire to taste of the forbidden fruit of 
a fisherman's bait 

It is sometimes still more of an art to per- 
suade the man-creatures that one has just 
the fishy dish they hanker after. It is the 
world-old story of trade and the old fish 
man had it worked out so finely that in his 
case it had become artistic, artful art. 

"Good-morning, ma'am, good-morning," 
he would say. ''How turns the world for 
you? Will you have some beauties 
of Nature this morning, ma'am? Some real 
speckled beauties?" Note the artistic. 

When the housekeeper had assented, as 
she usually did, he would proceed in his 
strong, if inelegant, fisherman's tongue: 
''Just wait till I cut the guts out, ma'am. Just 
wait till I cut tbe guts out." Note the artfuK 

Then the manner in which he carried out 
his suggestion was art, high art. One swift, 
skillful stroke of his murderous-looking fish 
knife and lo! it was done. 

The fish man was musical too. The voice 
with which he called his wares would have 
done credit to a trumpeting elephant. 
"Faish, faish," he would sing out, drawling 
the words until they sounded like a wander- 
ing prophet crying, "Yea, verily." 

The old fish man lived down by the bay in 
a shack. With him lived a man, older by a 
score of years, who had also been a fish man 
in his time. Now, decrepit, aged, he kept 
the shack and cooked the meals for the fish 

Many were the tales and superstitions of 
water-wraiths, spirits of the drowned, and 
ghostly sea-visions that these old cronies 
knew and told one another. 

Not that they believed them. O, no! But 
still there was a nervous thrill down the fish 
man's spine when in the early, early morning 
he arose to go at his fishing, and far out on 
the water moving lights and strange, soft 
shadows were cast on the sea's surface. 

Only clouds, only stars, he knew, yet the 
sky and sea have such a mystic weirdness 
just before the dawn breaks through the 

One morning before three o'clock the 
fish man went at his fishing. 

The moon was fading away, the stars 
were going out, and in the east the sky was 
still dull, ungolded. The blue-black water 
lapped the shore drowsily, tenderly. The 
world had not yet awakened and the fish 
man longed to sleep and dream with it As 
he walked along he was hardly conscious 
of his surroundings. 

Just ahead of him was a log and by it lay — 
O, horrible! A man, a drowned man! His 
dripping clothes clung to him closely, sea- 
weed entwined his limbs — but the fish man 
staid to see no more. 

He ran, stumbling, falling, gasped out his 
dire tale to his old companion and stood 

Only the night before they had talked of 
the danger of looking at the face of a 
drowned body before one touched the body, 
of the horrors of death in the water, of the 
sea-spirits that haunt the drowned corpses 
and wreak vengeance on the men that dare 
to touch their prey, their victims.. 

What could they do. They were a mile 
from a neighbor, and the hungry tide was 
moving eagerly onward every moment. The 
corpse, in common decency, must not be 
carried out to sea again. 

At last they heartened themselves, talked 
more bravely, and finally blustered boldly of 
their courage. They would get the corpse; 
they were not afraid. 

They started out, the fish man and his 
old companion, in the cold, gray dawn. 
Down the beach they slowly went, coming 
nearer the dread object every step. Faces 
averted, that they might not see the face, 
they approached. 

They reached it They stooped and 
touched the body, then turned it to gaze into 
the — wooden face of a scare-crow. 


Washington Congressmen~Elect 

It la after the boom and hurrah of election 
times and the eclat ol the enthuBiasm 
which surrounds the victors at the closing 
of the contest have all subsided that honest 
consideration can 
be bad (or those 
who have been 
elected to ofllclal 
capacity In ' this 
country of ours. 
It must be ac- 
knowledged that 
the American 
people have 
grown to bold a 
too small concep- 
tion at the dignity 
and honor which 
Is atUched to the 
holding al public 
ontce and very 
often men are se- 
lected as candi- 
dates and even 
elected to impor- 
tant and honor- 
able p o B Itions 
when the only 
worth they have 
under the Bun Is 
the fact that they 
have names which 
pass current In 
the channels o( 
comm e r c e and 

Tbe SUte of 
Washington In the 
selection of Its 
candidates aspir- 
in g to become 
members of the 
popular chamber 
of tbe National 
Congress, was pe- 
culiarly apt In HUN. w. R. 
choosing men <yl 

high moral character and clean personal 
Integrity. Men, not means, were consid- 
ered by all parties. Those defeated were no 
lets men of the people than those chosen. 

save in this that the voters of the state 
were rather In sympathy and accord with 
tbe doctrines of national governmental 
principles and policies promulgated by the 
victors in the con- 

Hon. Will E. 
Huppbrey, the 
new member 
elected. Is a resi- 
dent of Seattle 
and is numbered 
among the young- 
er men of his 
party. He was 
born near Almo. 
Mo n tg o mery 
county, Indiana. 
He spent hla boy- 
hood days upon 
the farm, and aft- 
er receiving a lib- 
eral education In 
the public schools 
CO m p 1 e t e d his' 
studies at Wa- 
bash College, 
i^ r a w [ ordsvllle, 
I n d i a n a, from 
which Institution 
he graduated In 
the class of 18ST. 
He then engaged 
in the practice of 
law In Crawfords- 
vllle, where be 
continued until 
1893, when he 
came to the Pa- 
cific Coast and lo- 
cated at Seattle. 
He was elected 
Corporation Coun- 
sel of the city of 
Seattle In ISdS 
and re-elected In 
1900. In 1902 be 
was elected a member of Congress of tbe 
United States. He has always been a Re- 
publican qnd took an active part on the 
stump tor tbe party In tbe Blaine cam- 


palgn and Id every campaign eince. He 
is Id baroiony with tbe preseat admlnlBtra- 
tion, believes Id Cnban reciprocity and Id 
bnlldlDg up our merchaDt marlDe. 

Hod. Francis W. CusbmaD, one ot tbe 
present CoDgressmen [rom the State of 
Washington, was bom Hay 8, 1867, at 
Brighton, Washington county, Iowa. He 
supported himself at various kinds ot work 
as a boy. and at the age of sixteen moved 
to the then Tarrltory of WyoralDg, where 
he remained five years. He thee moved to 
the State of Nehraslca and began the prac- 
tice oC law. He 
came to the State 
of Washington In 
1S91. In 1898 be 
was unaDlmously 
nomlDated by the 
RepublicaDs in 
tbelr state con- 
vention for tbe 
National Congress 
aDd elected. In 
1900 and again In 
1902 he was re- 
nominated by ac- 
clamation, and at 
each of the follow- 
ing election select- 
ed by an Increas- 
iDg majority to 
the honorable of- 
fice which he now 
fills. He Is ener- 
getic, sincere and 
coneistent Id hia 
official life,' aDd 
by bis affable aDd 
frank personality 
has gathered 
arouDd him a host 
of warm friends. 
He Is a resident 
of Tacoma. 

Hon. Wesley L. *""*' ''"^'^'' 

Jones, who has ^'""*">' "' ^'"' 

been Mr. Cushman's colleague in the Na- 
tional House of Representatives, is a resi- 
dent of North Taklma, and by bis diligent 
and tireless efforts exerted during bis ten- 
ure of public office OD behalf ot tbe State ot 
Washington aDd the growlDg needs of its 
rapidly increasing population has won the 
favor of the electors of his State. He has 
a strong personality and has been spoken of 
for higher honors. He was born at Bethany, 
Illinois, October 9, 1863. His father died 
tbree days before be was born ot a disease 
contracted In the army. His parents were 

poor and when tea years old he hired ODt 
on a farm where he worked every summer 
until twenty -one, going to school in the 
winter. After reaching bis majority he 
taught two terms Id the district school and 
also taught in the Southern IlUnols College 
to pay his way. He then began tbe study of 
law In Chicago, teaching during that time 
in the night schools there to raise money 
to meet bis necessary expenses. He was 
admitted to the bar in the spring of 1886. 
He then taught school for two years, and in 
April. t8S9. came to North Yakima, Wash- 
ington, where he 
has since resided. 
He worked in tbe 
real estate office 
of Goodwin ft 
Pugley by the 
month until July, 
18SD, when he 
opened an office 
and engaged tn 
the practice of 
law. In 1898 he 
was nominated 
and elected to the 
Flfty-slith Con- 
gress; in 1900, to 
the Fltty-seventh, 
and has just been 
elected to the 
FKty-eigbth, 1 n 
the election to 
which he received 
the highest vote 
upon the Repub- 
lican ticket. 
Washington Is 

among tbe states 
of the Union In 
that the three 
C on gr e ssional 
r e p r esentatlves 
I w. cusHMA>. (j( whom this ar- 

*"'"= B<1'«B«oa«. t,^,^ b^g been 

written are all of them Congressmen at 
large. Up until tbe 1900 census the state 
was apportioned two Representatives, but 
the Increase of population was so far in 
excess of that of other states that the new 
hpportlonment gave It threa An attempt 
was made at [be state legislature which 
met Id 1901 at Olympla to district tbe state 
Into three divisions, but failed because no 
satisfactory boundary lines could be deter- 
mined upon by that body. Hence, it can 
well be said that each representative comei 
from the State of WashlDgtoD, aa they were 


nominated in state convention and elected 
by a popular vote. 

The territory of this state Is so eitenelve 
and the Interests are so varied that It makes 
the duties of a Congressman from the state 
arduous and complicated. Hovrever, Con- 
gresamen Jones and Cushman have as col- 
leagues most happil? carried on their work, 
not encroaching upon the prerogatives and 
territory of the other^ and have been Instru- 
mental In accomplishing permanent and sat- 
isfactory results in behalf of this growing 
and prosperous commonwealth. 

In the addition of 
Mr. Humphrey to 
the number.the de- 
mands of the me- 
tropolis of the state 
have been talcen Into 
consideration, and 
the local pride and 
interests of Seattle 
and King county 
given recognition. 
This practically gives 
tbe state such a rep- 
resentation as would 
have resulted had 
the bill which was 
Introduced In the 
legislature passed 
and become a law. 

Hon. W. L. Jones 
comes from the East- 
em part ot the state; 
Hon. F. W. Cush- 
man, from the Sontb- 
vestem, and Hon. 
W. K. Humphrey, 
from the North- 
vestem. Each of 
these gentlemm are 
men of ability and 
learning and are well 

equipped by experl- ^^^^ ^^^^ 

ence and training to courimv of The 

attend to the In- 
creasing needs and growing demands of 
the state they are chosen to represent. 

Afl the State of Washington takes pride 
in the trio who are chosen to represent 
its people at the National Capitol, they are 
looking forward with large expectations 
that with an Increased representation the 
results accomplished will be as much larger 
and greater, as the advancement In the de- 
velopment and progress of Its citizens 
require. It la sincerely hoped that no slt- 
natlon will arise and no complications be 
brought forth which will thwart the oppor- 

tunities and possibilities which now exist, 
and that tbe interests and welfare of the 
people win be vigorously and successfully 
presented and attended to with prejudice 
towards none and diligence tor all. 

Washington is a most favored State and 
Is an empire within Itself. Here we find 
the products of the mountains hidden with- 
in the bowels ot tbe earth, which comprise 
gold, silver, coal, Iron and other precious 
and useful metals. Upon the great, vast 
plains of Eastern Washington extends a 
territory of exceeding fertility which pro- 
vides acreage tor a 
wide and general 
agricultural pursuit. 
Wheat, oats, barley, 
hay, grazing and 
cattle raising, fruit 
culture In all its di- 
versified and exten- 
sive rami Q cations, 
here find a field for 
operation which by 
Its productions has 
built up a growing 
and thriving com- 
mercial and trade 
pursuit Cities and 
towns have sprung 
up which the pros- 
perity ot the p u r- 
suits of the country 
has caused to blos- 
som and mature in- 
t o beautiful and 
powerful municipali- 
ties. Then coming 
to the precincts ot 
Western Washing- 
ton tbe mountain 
aides and the valleys 
are covered with an 
unlimited wealth of 
^^g timber which has 

fiL«i/B8P«6Jic<». supported and will 

for many years to 
come maintain a great and growing in- 
dustry In the manufacture ot lumber and 
shingles and kindred industries. The lands 
here, too, are fertile and propitious for ag- 
riculture, fruit raising, and grazing, which, 
as the acres are Cleared gives rise to rural 
pursuit. The busy whirr ot the factory and 
mill are followed by tbe lasting and pros- 
perous occupation ot the fanner. Com- 
merce has also found here a most favored 
Held tor operation and built up great in- 
terests which have become the envy and 
wonders of older and less favored States. 

Where Golden Grain is Garnered in Adams 
County, Washington 

Joseph of old bullded tbe graDerlee and very often ends in & quest tor wealth and — 
storehouses of Egypt and flUed them with slaveiy. Much different was the coming of 
the product of the field to provide for a the pioneers Into the eage-brush plains and 
coming famine and when his brethren arid wastes of bunch-grass In Adams Coun- 

Joumeyed hither In search for food andtj; these sought for homes and by Industry 

settled In that land of plenty, their pros- and thrift b»ve bullded tor themselves and 

perity and thrift were so pronounced that theirs farms and flresldes of happiness and 

the envious natives gathered them with plenty. 

their children Into bondage; when they left, Adams County lies In the southeastern 

they fled for freedom. The light for life part of the State with the Big Bend Conn- 


UT on the one eid« and the Palouse 
Valley on the other. The two chief 
buBtneH centers are RltzvUle. the 
txmatj seat, and Llnd, with Wash- 
tucna, a prosperous and growing 
town In the southeastern corner 
of the county. It was organized 
In 1SS4 and has an area of 1,908 
square miles. Wheat growing and 
grazing are Its chief Industries. 

J. F. Cobs, who settled on Cow 
Creek In 1ST2, Is reputed to have 
been the first to locate In the coun- 
ty. About lS7g Philip Ritz became 
possessed of ten sections of land, 
by reason of Mexican war claims, 
adjoining where the town of Rita- 
ville was afterwards located. He 
was the flret advocate of Bettle- 
ment In Adams County, and in- 
curred the bitter enmity of the 
cattlemen who used the land for 
grazing purposes. He Interested 
J. O. Bennet and J. M. Harris who 
with their families settled here in 
187S. Mr. Bennet was the first 
man to break land In the new dis- 
trict which he did In 1S80 and 
planted trees and shrubbery. De- 
cember 22, 1880, the Northern Pa- 
cific Railway Company platted 
and laid out a town- which they 
called. "lUtzvHle." 

Among the early settlers are the 
families of Schoessler, Rosenoft, Bowers. 
Thiel. Kanzier; also J. L. Johnson. 9. A. 
Wells. R. J. Neergaard, F. M. Egbers, Clark 
Long, A. 3. Newland, Frank Newland, Mr, 
Scboel, T. W. Hauschild, N. H. Greene, O. 
P. Tuttle, G. Grltman, F. Scheel, J. M 
Comparet, the Olsons, J. Turner, F. Bbnar 
and Mr. Ahlers. The first Superior Judge 
of the county was Hon. Wallace Mount. 
The first county officials were J. L. John- 
son, Geo. Sinclair and J, G. Bennet, com- 
mlBSioners; S. A. Wells, auditor; Wm. Mc- 
Kay, treasurer; J. B. Whittlesey, BberiJT; 
T. W. Hauschild, surveyor; Mrs. J. G. 
Bennet superintendent of schools; Edwin 
Carrlco, assessor. The first member of the 
legislature was S. A. Wells. 

Mr. McKay relates that when he received 
word of his appointment as treasurer of 
the new county he was notified that there 
was a sum of money of which he must be- 
come custodian. Not thinking It would be 
much he went to Colfax, which was the old 
county seat, and received t700 In gold. 
Says he In recounting the tale: 

"I never saw so much specie In ait my 
life up to that time when they put it Into 

my hands and told me to clear out. In 
those days we did not have banks and 
safety-deposit vaults, and there I was and 
had to take care of that gold, I Just took 
it home and hid it in the bed. I tell 
you It was a white elephant to me. until 
we spent It." 

RItzvllle. the county seat is located on 
the Northern Pacific Railway about sixty- 
five miles west ot Spokane. The first house 
was built by Wm. McKay near where the 
residence of D. C. Bennet now stands and 
WHS put up in 1880. Mr. McKay built the 
first store building in which he ran the first 
store. J. L. Johnson In the same year 
opered the first hotel. The postoffice was 
established In 1881 with Mr. McKay In 
charge, and It is said that for several 
months prior to the erection ot a building, 
he carried the mall matter around in his 
pocket, delivering the letters to the par- 
lies to whom sent wherever and whenever 
he n^^et them. Roxina White was the first 
school teacher. The first carpenter was O. 
P. Tuttel. Henry Horn built the first 
blacksmith shop in the place In 1884. 

RIlKvitle was Incorporated In 1890. the 


first mayor being Philip K Kretzer. Tbe 
electric light srstem was inaugurated in 
1902 and tie water works were put in In 
1901. In writing tor the RttzTllIe Times, 
Mrs. James Q. Bennet, one of the pioneer 
women aaj^: 

"IMr. D. Keller shipped the first car load 
of wheat. He also built the first harneea 
store, the building now being occupied hy 
H. F. Orltman. I>r. Daggett had the first 
drug store, and the hardware was owned by 
Mr. Spanjer. The first church was huilt 
in 18S6. The first school house was a two 
story frame building, and stood on tbe 
grounds where the brick now stands. It 
was built In 1SS5. Tbe Lutheran Germans 
bought It and remodeled It into the church 
which they occupy. The old court house 
was built the same year. The first news- 
paper was published In 1SS6 by Mr. Oeo. 
Blankenshlp who now resides In Olympla. 
It was known as the Adams County Rec- 
ord, but was afterwards changed to the 
RitzTllle Times, now owned by Messrs. 
Pettijohn & Swenson. A greater part of 
the old building and outfit was burned In 
the fire of June 6th, 18S8. Mr. N, H. 

Greene built. the first brick store. 

"Some of our old settlers have been hon- 
ored in the wB^r of having been members 
of tbe legislature. Daniel Buchanan, a hale, 
hearty Scotchman, was one of tbe tramers 
of the Stats Constitution. Hon. 9. A. 
Wells Is U. S. Land Receiver at Spokane. 
Hon. R. J. Neergaard Is county attorney 
of Whitman County. We have also, among 
our pioneers, Samuel Hutchinson, the giant 
of the state. 

"The first weddings In the vicinity of 
RltzvIUe, or what Is now Adams Count7, 
were those of Mr. Albert Bally and Miss 
Ella Cross, married December 25, 1SS2, also 
Mr. J. Samuel Edwards and Miss Nora 
Harris, married April 10, 1SS3. The first 
children bom were Dora Edwards and Ly- 
nette Harris, the latter being born in 
April, ISSZ. The first child bom In Adams 
County was Chester Keller, son of D, 
Keller. They are now residents of Kend- 
rick, Idaho," 

Ritzville Is reputed to be the greatest 
wheat-shipping entrepot of tbe United 
States and the world. From August, 1901. 
to August, 1902, there were 1,856 cars of 


wheat and 563 cars of flour billed Irom tblB 
station, which represented 2.062.086 bushela 
ol wlieat There are many large and capac- 
ious warehouses here located and In addition 
to the ordinary facllitlee for storing and 
keeping wheat, the RltzvlUe Flouring Mills, 
under the management of I.. P. Bauman, In 
1901, constructed a steel tank forty feet In 
diameter and fltty feet high which holds 
BS.OOO bushels of grain. This was the first 
■teel wheat tank constructed In this State. 
The public schools of RitzvlUe comprise 
ten grade's and employ as many teachers 
and are among the hest in the state. The 
churches are represented by the Congrega- 
tional, Methodist, Oerman Congregational, 
German Lutheran, Catholic, Christian, Bap- 
tist and Episcopalian denominations. There 
are a number of secret societies and fra- 
ternal lodges and social and amusement 
clnbs. The city has a brass band and 
m^ntalne a city park. There are two news- 
papers In this place — The Adams County 
News, edited and published by Mr. Edgar 
Ollson, and The Times, owned and publteh- 
ed by Messrs D. W. Pettljohn and W. S. 
Swenaon, to whom we are Indebted tor the 

illustrations of Rltzvllle which embelUsb 
thia article. 

Llnd Is the nest town In Importance to 
Rltzvllle and Is situated eighty-two miles 
southwest of Spokane, and Is surrounded on 
all sides by fine wheat lands much of which 
Is under cultivation and producing excellent 
crops each year. The Qrst settlers at this 
place were James and D. Neilson who lo- 
cated here In 1888 and opened a store and 
took up preemption claims where the town 
Is now situated. The postoffice was es- 
tablished In 1S8S with James Nellson In 
charge. Prior to that time. In 18S0, the 
railroad bad built a depot here and put up 
a water tank. The town was laid out In 
1890 and named Llnd. The first hotel was 
opened by C. E. Amsbaugh In 1898, and 
known as the "Llnd Hotel," The first grain 
warehouse was built In 1890 by the Nellson 
Brothers. In 1902 the place was Incorpor- 
ated and the flrst offlcers of the new city 
were Dugh Nellson. mayor; August Boenig, 
J. M. Moulton, S. L. VanMarter, H. Dun- 
lap, Cbas. H. Low, councllmen; H. K Mer- 
rlman, clerk; James Nellson, treasurer; W. 
J. Sturdlvan, marshal. In 1901 J. M. Houl- 


a bn II. «. Cole, Liad. 

ton established tbe bank here, of whicb 
Mr. Hopp is now cashier. W. F. Newland, 
now roBtding at tbis place, was one of tlie 
flret Btteen settlers to locate in Adams 
County. F. W. Lippold was the pioneer 
blacksmith at this place. The pioneer har- 
neea shop was opened by G. R. Austin, who 
gays that when be came here thought that 
he would watt a few years and get land 
cheap, "because tbe MIssourianS here- 
abouts would get tired and leave;" and then 
adds, '"but instead of getting cheapei*. It 
heePB getting higher." 

Llnd is one of the most progressive and 
enterprising towns in Eastern Washington, 
and In all lines business is flourishing. 
Last year over 600,000 bushels of wheat 
were shipped from this station [or which an 
average of fort;-Bve cents & bushel wds re- 
ceived in payment. The land, like most of 
the districts In Adams County, is a rolling 
prairie, and can be procured at from flO.OO 
to (20.00 per acre. There is no govern- 
ment land left, but a tew relinquishments 

can be bad at prices ranging from (500.00 
to $1,000.00 per quarter section. 

Llnd has at present a population of about 
500. The Methodist, Christian, German 
Lutheran and Baptist denominations have 
organized societies here, and a beautiful 
new building has just been completed by 
the Christians. Excellent public schools 
are maintained with five teachers besides 
the principal. The town has five ware- 
houses, two lumber yards, four flne brick 
blocks, teed mill, three hotels and many 
substantial frame business blocks and 
dwellings. In 1902 a system of waterworks 
were completed which provides ample pro- 
tection against fire, and an abundance ot 
water for ordinary purposes. The Llnd 
Leader was established by Al. P, Haas. Its 
present owner and publisher. The Interests 
and prosperity ot the place are looked after 
by a commercial club of which Dr. J, W. 
Henderson is president; Al. P. Haas, secre- 
tary, and F. H. Haupt, treasurer. 

No more pleasing scene can thrill the eye 



of man than the wide and seemlagly endless 
flelde of grovlng grain wblcb one can be- 
hold each year In Adama County. Acre 
after acre etretches out in waving golden 
billows before the admiring gaze, Here Is 
wealth; here Is the essence ot life; here Is 
the product (rf the soil sprung up from dust 
in answer to the energy and activities of 
man. Who can doubt the future greatness 
and prosperity of such a land as this, wtaicta 
today In its infancy yields beyond tbe fond- 
est anticipations ot Its owners, which a tew 
years ago was pronounced an arid waste 

and only at for the roaming herds of wild 
cattle and horses, which nomadic cattle- 
men ran hither and thither at will wherever 
food and water could be lound. From aage- 
bruab and dusty waste It has in a tew years 
been transformed Into a garden spot where 
grow annually acre after acre of golden 
grain — a rich and fertile country where 
thrift and ecoDomy under the beaming sun 
of a smiling Providence have reared tbe 
spires and roofs of worship, culture and do- 
mestic Joys. 
Such growth and progress la substantial. 


Hear tbe urvbio witb tbe borns^ 

New Year's horna ! 
WbaC B world of misery tde lustr tooler scorns. 
What ot flood of BOund U gushlDg 

From tbeee InetrumentB of llD. 
BLowD bj youth, who kDowB do hushlnK, 
Wbo (blnha cot of eatdrumB pruBblog, 
But deillhtB in New Year'a din. 
How be jofs, Joya, Joya 
Id tbe rasping, grating noise 
From the ihroate of ttioae Kd tnys : 
While he laughs 
And be chaffs 
Id a frenzy ot delight- 
In tbe datkncBB of the night — 
Aod he dancea and be yells, 
And bis comrades all he tells 
To join in with all their mlgbt — 
Witb a purpose and endearor 
To make Dolae now, now or never '. 
He that peace and quiet scorns 
Vents his loot- tootahulat Ion that unmusically swells. 
That uncomfortably dwells sod bo dlssoaantly swells 


From tbe b 

ullDg and I 

e tooting of (he bor 



A Million Dollar Mistake 

By Lon C. Bbown, GRANin Faixs, Washington. 

We were "drifting" on the sixteen hun- 
dred "level" of the "Tiger," one of the larg- 
est mines in the "Great Amazon" district. 
Nothing could be heard except the vibration 
of an air-drill pecking against the rock in 
some remote part of the mine or the dis- 
tant roar of the big hoisting cages moving 
swiftly up and down, straining every effort 
to Increase the output of this mammoth 

The foreman had just made his usual 
morning round, and had gone out toward 
the shaft to visit other parts of the works. 
"Old Dave," my drilling partner, seated upon 
a powder-box, his hammer resting across his 
knee, gazed blankly at the dim candle light 
clinging to a projection of the foot-wall. It 
was now about eight weeks since I had been 
assigned to this "level" with Dave, and dur- 
ing all this time I was unable to learn a 
single item of his past career. I could not 
help being interested in the mud-bespat- 
tered visage before me, and knowing that 
one would not be molested for at least an 
hour, I ventured a few questions concerning 
his "boyhood days" with the following re- 

Old Dave, or rather, "Young Dave" as we 
are about to know him, was attending school 
in an eastern village. Reports of a gold 
strike in ESastem Oregon were causing great 
excitement in the community. All sorts of 
wild rumors floated abundantly. People who 
had nothing else to do hustled about the 
town, adding to and exchanging hearsays, 
until — at the end of a week from date of 
first report — what at first were merely colors 
grew to be large nuggets. No one "believed 
a word of It," yet every one expressed a 
desire to "go West" and be convinced. 

Dave was among the excited. He, too, had 
been reading and talking in regard to facts 
concerning ^the new country. Hundreds of 
tunnels pouring forth tons of gold-bearing 
ore, as many stamp-mills, with their smoke- 
stacks rising liigh in the air, these were the 
visions haunting Dave both night and day. 
Who could resist the temptation to seek a 
fortune in this strange land? 

Dave's father, mindful of the magnitude 
of such an undertaking, gave his consent 
reluctantly. However, it being finally 
agreed that Dave should attempt this haz-. 

ardous pursuit, arrangements were hurried- 
ly made, as he had hoped to be among the 
first in the new district. Seven days' con- 
tinuous traveling landed Dave in Oregon, one 
hundred and thirty miles from his final 
destination. The remaining distance had to 
be walked or stage-coached, one being about 
as tiresome as the other. He selected the 
former, however, it being more in accord- 
ance with his means. 

"If things had come as smooth for .me the 
rest of my life as they did before that day, I 
would not be here now, worrying about how 
I can get that hole twelve Inches deeper 
before the boss gets back," said Dave as 
he shifted his gaze from the candle to the 
drill half buried in the rock. Nothing oc- 
curred of importance during his long tramp 
from the railroad into the hills. 

It is needless to mention the exhausted 
condition of our young prospector as he 
strolled into the busy camp on the tenth 
day, bearing the burden of the noon-day 
sun, a roll of blankets and blisters galore. 
The town seemed in a state of confusion. 
People hurried about the main street as if 
greatly excited. A large throng had gath- 
ered at the postoffice. The stage was due. 
Dave gazed despairingly at this excited 
mass of humanity. It now occurred to him 
that he was by no means the first In the 
district. Some consolation was afforded, 
however, when the stage arrived; for it 
was "loaded to the water's edge." He was 
by no means the last Dave busied himself 
the remainder of the day gathering informa- 
tion that would be of use to him as a pros- 

Early next morning, the necessary provis- 
ions and instruments having been pur- 
chased, he started up the canyon, looking 
for something which he, in all probability, 
would not recognize when he had found it 

His realization of the fact that he was not 
the first in the district grew stronger as 
his altitude became higher. Every foot of 
land had been staked. Location notices con- 
fronted him everywhere. Numerous tunnels 
with small "workings" inside and large 
schemes outside, gave evidence that some 
had faith in the district. 

The end of the third week found Dave 
roaming over the mountains with a pocket 



full of JocBtlon blftDks and an abundance of 
Anticipation verging on diaappointmenL 

■ThlB was the very day," eald he, "that I 
made a million dollar mistake. It came in 
the way of an offer from Earl Stanton, 
president of a large atocb company formed 
to do Bome development work on the Golden 
Cord, a promising prospect not far from 
camp. HU otter was to give me employ- 
ment for two years at Bi» dollars a day; he 
would pay me In advance providing I would 
accept stock In payment for my work. This 
would allow me eighty-seven thousand, six 
hundred shares at Ave cents each. Being In- 
disposed to accept payment in what seemed 
to be wild cat stock, I refused the offer; and 
from that day opportunity has never been so 
apparent to me as then." 

Dave shifted bis position again to ascer- 
tain the source of some noise caused by 
small pleres of rock, "aioughlng oft the roof" 
of the "drift." Being assured that it was 
not tbe boss returning, he proceeded. 

■"Determined not to return home without a 
fortune, I found employment in other parts 
of the state. The mine in which 1 was 
employed being closed on account of frozen 

pipes, 1 had gone to town tor our mall. 
While stopping in at a hotel for a. few 
minutes' rest, I noticed a late weekly edition 
of one of the large city papers. It was now 
nearly four years since 1 had refused Stan- 
ton's offer. Imagine my great surprise and 
disappointment wtien I found under the 
head ot Mining Notes that the Golden Cord 
mine had come to the front, stock being 
quoted at twelve dollars. Had 1 accepted the 
offer, 1 would now be In possession of 
eighty- seven thousand, six hundred shares at 
twelve dollars each, or a total value of one 
million, flfty-one thousand, two hundred dol- 
lars. Thus you see bow I, like thousands of 
others, refused one of tho many opportuni- 
ties extended to the young men by the 'Great 
West.' " 

At this point In our conversation a dim 
light appeared In the distance, warning us 
that the boss was approaching. Talking Im- 
mediately ceased and hammering began vig- 

"What's the matter, Dave, hard rock?" 
asked the boss, as he drew near. 

"Very hard," said Dave. "The drill hasn't 
cut an Inch in the last hour." 



ifillliiiliriiiirT.rfp^ :e^ 



Synopsis op Prior Chapters. 

Chapter I. — The Early History of the Scratcher 
Family. Chapter II. — In the Home of Wilson 
E. Cloud — Accident Making Little Lizzie a Crip- 
ple for Life — Death of Mr. Cloud — Collection of 
Insurance Policies — Mrs. Cloud's Intimate Rela- 
tions with Mr. Scroggs, Attorney. Chapter III. — 
In the Law Office of Scroggs & Bluff — The 
Settlement of the Matterson .Case Against Dick 
Scratcher — Dick Beginning the Study of Law in 
the Office of Scroggs & Bluff. Chapter IV. — The 
Wages of Sin — Blanche Matterson Deserted by 
Dick Scratcher — Blanche Goes East to Michigan. 
Chapter V. — Dick Scratcher Studies Law with 
Scroggs & Bluff — His Uncle Gives Him Charge of 
His Timber Land — The Letter from Blanche. 
Chapter VI. — The Story of the Find of Gold In 
Klondyke — Scroggs & Bluff, with Dick, Organize 
"The Klondyke Company" — The Rush North — Seat- 
tle Booms. Chapter VI. — The People Coming to 
Seattle — The Trip of Michael Sears to Seattle 
and His Meeting Blanche — The Anxiety of Dick 
after He Had Gotten His Uncle to Sign a Note 
for $20,000 Instead of a Contract — Michael Sears 
Takes Desk Room with Scroggs & Bluff. Chapter 
VIII. — Blanche at Home with Her Parents — The 
Answer to Blanche's Letter — Mother Matterson, 
"My Blanchie. he is fooling you ; Dick is only 
fooling" — "Mother, I love him, for all the pain he 
caused me." Chapter IX. — Mr. Matterson's de- 
scription of the Seattle Fire. Chapter X. — Some 
Characteristic Happenings in the Home of Dick 
Scratcher — The ITot to Have Michael Sears 
Drugged in a Variety Theatre. Chapter XI. — 
Beginning of Michael Sears' Church Relations in 
Seattle — Description of a Seattle Gambling 
House. Chapter XII. — Pen-picture of an Old- 
Time Variety Theatre in Seattle — The Drugging 
of Michael Sears — The Mighty Power. Chapter 
XIII. — Endeavor to entrap Blanche. Michael Sears 
elected S. S. Supt. XIV. — Michael Sears meets 
Ruth Tildon. XV.— The Note Case. XVI.— A 
small amount of fruitbearlng. XVII. — ^Michael 
Sears is given a room at Mrs. Cloud's house. The 
rush of Blanche to commit suicide. The voice of 
the Mighty Power. 



A brakeman running ahead of a loose car 
coming in on the ocean wharf on the night 
mentioned in the preceding chapter, saw the 
rain-soaked form of Blanche Matterson and 
dragged her from beneath the coming 
wheels. After she had been resuscitated, 
the fellow called a cab and sent her to her 
home, where they were all in uproar and 
excitement over her absence. 






"Mother!" she cried, falling with tears into 
her mother's arms. 

•'I am so glad!" her mother laughed and 
cried, "that you have come back! My 
Blanche! My darling Blanche!" and she 
kissed and caressed her most tenderly for 
a time. 

Her father was fired with the impulse to 
go and kill the one who had been the cause 
of it all. But a voice within held him in 
check as it said. "Not yet! Not yet!" 

The spring of the year at Seattle is the 
most delightful season of all the year. The 
rains of winter cease — those steady, dismal, 
gloomy rains — and the earth takes on a 
bright, clear, happy appearance. The ma- 
drona trees peel oft their bark, and add 
new leaves to their evergreen foliage. The 
firs and cedars show a clearer, fresher green. 
The grass shoots forth to form and^size as 
if in a night. The flowers bloom bright and 
fragrant. The birds sing. Business be- 
comes active and lively. Building begins. 
Everything seems to start in anew* 

This spring, of all springs, was a most 
active and exciting one. The Maine had 
been blown up in Havana harbor. War had 
been expected. The armory had been 
crowded by young men joining the militia 
and drilling every night. War was declared.. 
A call for volunteers was made. All in the 
space of a few months. Among those who 
went from Seattle to San Francisco to mus- 
ter in was Charlie , the one who 

had left Blanche Matterson on that terrible 
night. Dick Scratcher had proclaimed right 
and left that he was going; but because he 
could not go as a captain or officer, he staid 
at home. Michael Sears presented himself, 
but was rejected on account of weak eyes. 

The relations between Mr. Scratcher and 

This story began in the September number. 



Mr. Sears were growing more acute every 
day for no real reason, especially, more than 
on general principles because of the wide 
difference in nature, until Mr. Bluff, coming 
in one day, settled matters for a time by 
saying, **Now look here, boys, what's the 
matter between you two? You seem to be 
acting like young kids! Now, I want you 
two to work together and stop this foolish- 
ness; and, if you can't, I'll get somebody 
who will!" Then the relations between 
them appeared friendly outwardly. 

But, inwardly, well ! However, late in 

the summer of 1898, Michael Sears opened 
up a law office of his own. 

That summer! Day followed day with 
the brightest kind of sunshine! Getting 
away from the office with its study, worry 
and work was a delight, but the freedom, 
the pleasure and the joy of living day after 
day and entering into the companionship 
of a loving and pure heart was more than 
mere delight. 

It all dated from the day of the babbath 
school picnic, the latter part of June. That 
day was a revelation. The loneliness which 
Michael Sears had been carrying in his 
heart, since the marriage of his betrothed 
to another, on that June day, seemed to 
vanish and be gone, vety much as the 
smoke mists left hanging above the earth 
from a passing steam-car float away and 
are lost from sight in the atmosphere. The 
cause of it all was Ruth Tildon. 

Ruth Tildon was the only daughter of 
one of the pioneers. Her great, black eyes 
had volumes of life gleaming from them. 
Her voice in sweet-voiced key, when she 
laughed, was like the rhythm of a song. 
Her he4rt was aa pure and free from guile 
as the sparkling fountain where starts the 
mountain rill. Her words and actions were 
sweet and gracious with kindness and at- 

Michael Sears on that picnic day had a 
kodak. While taking groups of the happy 
crowds, he made it his pleasure to try to 
get one picture of Miss Tildon by herself; 
but, the best that his camera was able to 
do was to catch her as she stood brushing 
the dirt from the frock of a crying little girl, 
who had fallen down, and whom she was 

The ostnnsible object of the first visit 
which he made at Miss Tildon's home was 
to take to Miss Ruth a print of the picture 
which he had snapped on the day of the 
picnic, and which he had developed and 
printed himself; but the real object was the 
same old reason, which has ever brought 

together two hearts with an affinity for each 

That Michael Sears was smitten puts the 
case mildly. He was head over ears in 
love. He could not breathe, he 
could not Bee, he could not think, but that 
she was in his mind. In the mornings he 
was worthless for business, because he was 
thinking about the afternoons; in the after- 
noons he was worthless for business, be- 
cause he was with her somewhere. Days, 
when thejT were not together, he was nerv- 
ous, rattled, thoughtless and stupid. 

Out to the parks they went on afternoons. 
Many times they rode out to Leschi Park 
on the Yesler avenue car and then walked 
along by the shore of Lake Washington 
over to Madrona — quiet, secluded Madrona! 
Sometlm'Bs they would ride out to Madrona 
Park in the afternoon, and, after a season 
of dreasiing and looking out through the 
trees across the pure, glistening waters of 
the cleai', pure lake, they would eat a lunch, 
which she had prepared. Then, in the cool 
of the evening, they would row out upon that 
smooth and placid surface. Away from the 
rush an^l noise of town in the solitude of 
Nature it was sweet and blessed delight for 
them to there hold close communion in the 
joyful peace and harmony of true and per- 
fect loiie. 

Away, miles away, across the lake, with 
their snowy peaks far beyond the deep green 
stretch of fir and cedar forest, arose the 
Cascade Mountains. The evening sun would 
bring them out so sharp and clearly defined 
against the sky that they seemed to rest 
upon t)ie tree-tops. Each gorge and gully, 
jutting rock and crag, stood out so well de- 
fined before the eye, it seemed that the 
beholder could reach out and touch them. 
But the glory of the evening was not in this 
view; nor in the boat ride itself; nor the 
lake — it was Mount Rainier at sunset! 

Mt Rainier! Glimpses of it were to be 
had in the afternoon from the street car. 
But, in the afternoon, a smoky haze hung 
in the air and screened it from the eye. 
Far, far away it appeared to rear Its largt, 
proportions, up up into the blue above. A 
grayish colored snow seemed to cover Its 
peak and reach down to be lost in a mass 
of shapeless fog which hung over and hid 
the foothills. It was an inspiration to be 
able even to dimly see the mountain from 
the car, but very unsatisfactory not to be 
able to behold Its beauties and descry its 
lofty altitudes clearly. 

But, at sunset, when Michael Sears and 
Ruth Tildon rode out from the shore at Ma- 
drona Park to move with silent glide upon 



the quivering bosom of the wave-lit, spark- 
ling Lake Washington, all the mists of the 
afternoon would be cleared away. There 
Btood the ponderous, the grand, the massive, 
the majestic, the glorious, the stately 
mountain, in all the beauty and sublimity of 
Nature. In silf nee it rose up from the midst 
of the green forest; upon the blue-gray foot- 
hills were its foundations laid; rocks, crags, 
ravines, precipitous heights, in one huge 
mass of earth and stone, stood high upon 
the rolling fields of black and shadowy foot- 
hills; while, over and above all, the gleam- 
ing peak stood high blazing in the bright- 
ness of the sunlight's glory, its crest sur- 
mounted with the everlasting snows glis- 
tening, and glittering like a shining mound 
of silver, clearly cut out and defined against 
the deep-dyed blue of the high, wide skies 
beyond. The heart beats fast with delight- 
ful emotions of the mountain's splendor; 
the soul is hushed to awe in the presence 
of the divine grandeur, while the mind Is 
bathed in the unspeakable conception of 
its everlasting and eternal existence. 

As the evening grows and the sunlight 
begins to dim, a pandemonium of glory 
bursts over the mountain. The white of its 
snowy crest changes to tints of green; then 
glows with golden richness, while a halo of 
radiance hovers above and reaches out into 
the black, chaotic, skiey deep. Flashes of 
light fiame high from the lurid red of its 
golden peak of fire, glistening, glowing, 
gleaming with the brilliancy of paradise. 
When lo! From out that bright and fiery 
crest a sea of crimson light, like a flood of 
lava might from crater flow, bursts out 
and flows down from the top of that ex- 
alted peak to creep over and envelope the 
whole mountain with its dazzling flare of 
yellow, shimmering flames. 

For a moment, like the spiritual wave of 
emotion may come over the soul in its Joy- 
ful passing, when the heart is bathed in 
baptism, so now, the sight of the mountain 
as it stands clothed in a most magnificent 
and gorgeous splendor by the hand 
of the Creator of the universe, en- 
velopes the being of the beholder with 
a feeling of infinite existence while 
it charms and entrances the eye that 
beholds and lifts the spirit of the gazing 
mortal up to its grand and lofty heights. 

Then, like all worldly, fieetlng Joys, in 
a twinkling the scene pales away and van- 
ishes from sight, as the sun, which gives 
the glory and the light for it all, goes down 
behind the western slopes and leaves the 
mountain to fade into the shadows of night 
to be lost from view. 

Sometimes Michael Sears and Ruth Til- 
don would sit at evening in the seats or on 
the grass amidst the beds of blooming and 
fragrant flowers at the Park near Denny 
Way, when they would look out over the 
landscape of hills, lakes,* streets, houses and 
valleys. Often, on Sabbath afternoons 
they would go out to listen to the music at 
Madison Park and mingle with the crowds 
to be found there, returning Just in time 
for lunch before young people's meeting. 
Sometimes, they would spend an afternoon 
wandering amidst the monstrous, great, tall 
trees at Ravenna Park, when they would 
wind through the shady, fern-lined paths 
and go down to the bubbling spring beneath 
the hill to slake their thirst. Is it any won- 
der that such romantic and picturesque sur- 
roundings would awaken and inspire in their 
lives to liveliest existence the highest, the 
sweetest, the most blissful and delightful, 
the truest, purest and most blessed emotions 
of the soul? 

Kinnear Park, with its banks and beds of 
most beautiful and fragrant flowers, its wind- 
ing paths through plats of velvet green, its 
picturesque summer houses, its cosy seats, 
its bridge in the wild-like wood below the 
hill, its nook of native forest, its magniflcent 
view of Elliot Bay and Puget Sound, the 
restless arm of the ocean, with ships, boats 
and commerce, with the railroad trains rush- 
ing along beneath the hill over the pilings 
along the shore — Kinnear Park held them 
many times in its midst and they fondly 
lingered there in deep devotion to the One 
Who gave it its ever restful, changing, 
charming pleasure and delight. 

Later in the summer, when the days were 
hot and warm, they would cross the bay on 
the ferry boat and go to West Seattle to 
seek the beach. How delightful, indeed, it 
was throw away restraint and rush out 
across the warm sands and fall into the 
bosom of the great ocean deep! In, on to 
the hot beach would roll the coming tide, 
carnring the bathers with it Rush! would 
come the waters to splash the crowds of 
merry, laughing people. Then they would 
recede, to come back again. Within its 
mighty arms the old ocean would lift the 
body up in a powerful swell, toying play- 
fully with it, and then set it down again 
upon the hard-packed, solid sand. Safe and 
pleasant was it to Jump and swim there on 
the shores of the sea; but woe to the one 
who went beyond his depth! Then pleasure 
turned to death. 

That spring and summer! Could there be 
any other outcome than that Michael Sears 
should fall desperately in love with Ruth 
Tildon, the charming, the beautiful, the lov- 



able Ruth Tildon, and that she should fall 
in love with him in the midst of such ro- 
mantic and picturesque surroundings? And 
that her folks should inquire into the parent- 
age and antecedents of Michael Sears? 



Michael Sears was sitting in a restaurant, 
late one evening, after a hard day's worry 
and work, nervously hungry. He had come in 
just before closing time, and his mind was 
running with the happenings of the day. 

A fellow had brought suit against a client 
of his out before one of the distant country 
Justices of the peace, and had had the time of 
trial set for such an early hour as to make it 
almost Impossible for him to get to the jus- 
tice's office in time to enter an appearance 
and have the privilege of making a defense. 

Of this particular justice of the peace it 
was once said that after two lawyers had 
been arguing for almost half a day about a 
demurrer to the oral pleadings in a case, 
they sat down and awaited a decision from 
'*his honor." "Well, gentlemen, is that all?" 
the justice asked, as they sat quietly await- 
ing his ruling. "We are waiting to see what 
disposition your honor will make of the de- 
murrer," one spoke up. "Well," then drawled 
out the justice, looking helplessly around, 
"I don't see any demurrer, especially; but 
1 do think the plaintiff is entitled to 
have damages in the sum of twelve dollars 
and costs!" 

On another occasion when a defendant 
had demanded a jury in order to be sure of 
getting justice, and the witnesses had all 
been examined, and the arguments made, 
the justice said, "Well, gentlemen, what 
next?" "The charge!" spoke up one of the 
attorneys in the case, "Your honor must 
charge the jury." After fumbling helplessly 
with an antiquated copy of the "statutes" 
for ten or fifteen minutes, he looked up and 
said, addressing the array of men on the 
panel, "I have been looking, gentlemen of the 
jury, for some law whereby I could dispose 
of this case without charging you; but after 
diligent search, I am not able to do so. 
Now, notwithstanding the amount of regret 
I have in so doing, as a duty imposed upon 
me by law, in the case at bar, I am com- 
pelled to charge you and each of you one 
dollar and one-half and mileage both ways 
for one day!" It is reported that there were 
no more juries in his court after that. 

At another time, this same justice of the 
peace had brought before him two fellows 
arrested for theft. One of them had twenty 
dollars on his person and the other, nothing. 
This fact was brought to the justice's at- 

tention before the time of trial and the un- 
derstanding was had with the prisoners' at- 
torney that both should plead guilty, when 
the one with the money was to be fined and 
the other discharged. The fellow without 
the money was to be brought up first. On 
the day of the trial, however, the casea 
were shifted, unknown to the justice. The 
fellow brought up first began by saying that 
he was very sorry he had done it, etc., when 
the justice broke in by asking, "Did you 
mean to take the articles which were stol- 
en?" "No, your honor, I didn't," he replied. 
"Then you are discharged; there can be no 
crime without an intention!" and the fellow 
made a hasty exit. When the other fellow 
was called up, he, too, began to explain to 
the justice how sorry he was and that he 
didn't mean to do it, etc., when the justice 
stopped him by saying, "You think you will 
tell the same story as the other fellow, da 
you, and get off, too? I know you're lying! 
Mr. Clerk, enter up a fine against tnis fel- 
low for twenty dollars!" "But he hasn't a 
cent of money, your honor," spoke up the 
fellow's lawyer. "Isn't he the one that had 
the money?" asked the surprised justice. 
"No, your honor, it was the other fellow!" 
exclaimed the prosecutor. "Stand aside, 
then," he roared at the prisoner, continuing 
in an excited tone, "Mr. Constable, go out at 
once and fetch the other fellow in!" 

After a few moments in came the con- 
stable with his victim. "Are you the young 
fellow who was in here a few moments ago 
accused of theft?" asked the justice. "Yes> 
your honor," said he in amazement, wonder- 
ing what was coming next. "And, did I 
understand you to say to me that you didn't 
mean to do it?" he further queried. "Yes, 
your honor, I didn't mean to do it," the young 
man answered. "And do you insist upon 
that now?" Yes, your honor." "Then," ex- 
claimed the justice, with an injured look 
upon his face, "I am obliged, young man, 
howsoever much I regret it, to fine you twen- 
ty dollars for contempt of court. I never 
saw such bare-faced lying in all my life!" 
As the fellow paid down the twenty dollars, 
the justice turned to the other prisoner and 
said, "As it would only be an expense to the 
county to send you to jail and be a burden 
upon the taxpayers of this district, I remit 
your fine and give you twenty-four hours 
to leave town!" In those days the fines 
went to the justice. 

Before this same justice a fellow was 
once brought for being in a gambling game. 
The fellow plead guilty and said that it was 
his first offense and that his parents were 
well-to-do people and that he would never 
do it again. "What is your name?" asked 



the justice, apparently interested in the 
case. When he was told he said, *'Well, 
well, I know your father well; I am sur- 
prised to find the son of so fine a gentle- 
man in such bad company. I suppose you 
did it in a moment of thoughtlessness. You 
may go this time; but, don't you ever let me 
hear of your getting into this kind of a 
scrape again!" 

In a few days another young man was 
arrested for the same offense as the young 
fellow just mentioned, and the circumstances 
surrounding the case were identical — the 
youth being well educated, of good parent- 
age, first offense, etc. "Where do you live?" 
asked the justice. "I have been going to 
college," the boy answered, "and have just 
come to this place to find work; I had only 
a few dollars left in my pocket when a 
fellow on the street proposed to show me 
to a private gambling game, and I went, 
but I lost, judge— I lost all I had!" "Now! 
Now!" exclaimed the justice, "This is a 
pretty how-de-do! A refined, well educated, 
college-bred young man in a gambling game! 
The very day he gets to town! And of good 
parents, too! What do you suppose your 
folks will think when they read about it in 
the papers? Young man, you were brought 
up better and knew better! Mr. Clerk, enter 
up against this young man the maximum 
sentence, and see that it is carried out!" 
"Your honor," spoke up the prosecutor, as 
the boy burst into a flood of tears, "don't 
your honor think that the sentence given 
is a hard one?" "Justice is justice, Mr. 
Prosecutor," answered the court; "yes, it is 
severe; but the law must be upheld!" The 
one boy was the son of a resident voter; 
the other was not. 

On this especial day. after Michael Sears 
had made a hard ride and arrived "on 
time," and tried his case for the defendant, 
in the absence of the plaintiff, who did not 
show up, the justice said, "Well, you do ap- 
pear, from the evidence given, to have a good 
defense, but, Mr. Sears, I haven't heard what 
the plaintiff has got to say about the mat- 
ter! Now, as I view the case, the plaintiff 
would not have begun the lawsuit unless 
he was sure he had a good and valid claim. 
His not being here today goes very far in 
my mind to show the utmost confidence he 
has of winning upon appeal, if I should find 
against him. The duty of the courts, you 
know, is to protect the weak and shield the 
oppressed. I will, therefore, render judg- 
ment for the plaintiff!" Then the justice 
added, "You will please pay the costs now, 
Mr. Sears, as Is the usual custom!" 

"I desire to give notice of appeal in open 
court," quietly answered Mr. Sears. 

"What!" exclaimed the justice. "Appeal! 
Sir, I fine you five dollars for contempt! 
Mr. Clerk, you may note the notice of ap- 
peal when the fine is paid, and not be- 
fore! Next!" 

It is needless to say that Mr. Sears very 
promptly paid the fine and was exceedingly 
glad to get away. 

As Michael Sears sat In the restaurant, 
lost In his own thoughts and trying to fig- 
ure out some way in which he could get 
that five dollars back, he was amazed upon 
looking up to see that the waitress who 
stood for his order was Blanche Matterson. 

"Why, Miss Matterson!" he exclaimed, 
"I'm surprised to see you here; I thought 
that you had gone out of the city; I never 
see you any more at the mission. Since 
when have you been working in a restau- 

"Oh, I've been here now for several 
months," she replied. "What do you want 
to eat?" And she took his order. 

"Blanche Matterson! Beautiful Blanche 
Matterson! Lovable, gentle Blanche Mat- 
terson!" thought young Sears, as his gaze 
followed her leaving the room. With ele- 
gance and grace she moved. She held her 
head erect in seeming pride. With stately 
step she walked. Her shoulders were 
thrown back in artful pose. She served the 
tables as a queen would serve in banquet 
hall. It was not labor, but a seeming pleas- 
ure, as she did the duties of her task. She 
was so different from the other girls In the 
place that the customers took notice of her 
and wondered who she was and why she 
served the tables in a restaurant, being as 
the waitresses termed themselves, only one 
of the crowd of "hashers!" As Sears was 
leaving the restaurant Blanche came up and 
they left together. 

"Tell me about yourself," he said, as 
they walked along. 

"Well, she answered, "you know they 
raised the rent on father and so, I had to 
do something; I can't go to church any 
more, as I have to work on Sundays. Oh, 
Mr. Sears! You don't know the insults 
that are thrown at a girl in a restaurant; 
the men seem to think they can say and do 
anything to a girl, if she's only a waitress!" 

Mr. Sears let her talk. He was too busy 
thinking to do any talking himself. When 
they arrived at her humble home he went 
In with her for a few moments. Then, in 
the seclusion of that home, she unburdened 
her heart to him and told him all that Dick 
Seratcher had done and how he had poi- 
soned the love of her sweetheart. When she 
had concluded she was in tears. 



"Blessed are they that mourn, for they 
shall be comforted:" whispered Mr. Sears 
to her as he went to leave. 

"Mr. Sears," spoke Amos Matterson, as 
he passed through the shop in leaving, "has 
young Scratcher settled his note case yet?" 

"No," replied Sears, "not yet; but he ex- 
pects to do so soon." 

"Will- you let me know when he does so?" 

"Yes, sir; with pleasure," said Michael 
Sears, as he stepped out into the night, re- 
volving many things in his mind. 



Mrs. Wilson E. Cloud found Michael Sears 
to be such jolly and pleasant company, as 
she put it, "for Lizzie" and, "because Lizzie 
liked him so much," concluded to let the 
young atorney remain at her house to the 
end of his month and to keep his room in- 
definitely. Yet, when he began to keep 
company with Miss Ruth Tildon, that sum- 
mer, it was a fight with her to keep from 
growing jealous; but then, he was at home 
most of the evenings. 

"Pshaw!" thought she, "he doesn't care 
much for Ruth Tildon!" She often spoke of 
him as "My roomer, Mr. Sears." People 
among those of her acquaintance and many 
who knew Mr. Sears wagged their heads 
and said, "It's pretty sure to result in 
something! She's beautiful, vivacious, 
charming and rich; and he's a young, poor, 
ambitious, struggling lawyer! Wouldn't be 
much surprised, although she is some older 
than he is!" 

After Mr. Scroggs had gone away, when 
Mrs. Cloud had any matters of general busi- 
ness come up for her consideration of not 
too weighty and important a character, she 
consulted the young attorney rooming at 
her house. Many evenings during the sum- 
mer, when Michael Sears was keeping com- 
pany with Ruth Tildon during the day, she 
would be waiting for him with a cosy fire 
and, upon his returning home, invite him 
in to talk with her. She would greet him 
in the hallway and say: 

"I have a little matter that is worrying 
me, Mr. Sears; would it be too much trouble 
for you to come in and advise with me as to 
what course I should pursue?" When, with 
a mind keen for business and a disposition 
to show her a return for the many kindness- 
es which she showered upon him, he would 
go in with her into her sitting room and 
sit before the fire in the open grate in the 
chair — the most comfortable one — which she 
had already placed there for him. 

Mrs. Cloud, for some reason well known 

to herself, always chose to wear a pleasing 
and most becoming easy gown on those 
evenings. Ofttimes Lizzie was with them 
during the early part of the evening and 
she would laugh and take on very hap- 
pily to hear Mr. Sears telling funny stories. 
And then, Mrs. Cloud was very sweet-voiced 
and always had such a radiant smile upon 
her face. Her great interest in him pleased 
Mr. Sears, and, indeed, often, as the three 
would sit together before the flickering fire 
and visit in that elegant and delightful room, 
after the business talk was over, thoughts 
of home and life would flutter through his 
mind. Sometimes a slight desire would 
come into the hearts of each of them that 
their being together might continue on and 
on, indefinitely. Such a pleasant influence 
and congenial companionship seemed to 
exist between them that, of a truth, it would 
not need much urging for Michael Sears to 
fall in love with Mrs. Cloud! Once Lizzie 
said, as she sat at Mr. Sears' knee: 

"Oh, I like you! Lizzie loves you. You 
are going to stay with Lizzie and Mamma 
always, aren't you? Lizzie wants you to 
stay and live with her Mamma and be papa, 
won't you?" when young Sears in amaze- 
ment and confusion drew her up to him and 

"Hush, dear! Your Mamma's coming 
now and — ahem — and — ahem — you mustn't 
talk that way before Mamma!" and she 
looked up into his face with the most puz- 
zled expression that a person ever saw. 
However, she didn't say anything further at 
that time. 

Just prior to the time that Michael Sears 
left the oflace of Scroggs & Bluff to open 
an office of his own, Mrs. Cloud brought out 
and asked him about a note which she held 
against her brother Dick, amounting 
to six hundred dollars, and asked the 
young attorney if, in event her brother re- 
ceived anything from the Stone estate, she 
could in any way recover upon the note 
against him. When Sears asked her about 
the consideration of the note and how it 
came to be made, she told him, but spared 
the name of the girl. However, the lawyer 
well knew that it was on account of the 
Blanche Matterson matter. Later, when 
the negotiations for a settlement of Dick's 
case were seemingly getting to a head, she 
placed the note in his hands for collection. 

When Mr. Sears presented the note to 
Dick Scratcher, Dick took on a most sur- 
prised countenance and said, "Why, Sears, 
I never signed that piece of paper; it's just 
a game that Jen has put up on me because 
I'm going to get some money from the 



stones. Huh! I'll bet, when she was down at 
Sue's in Portland, and heard about my note, 
they fixed the job up on me. Why, that's 
Sue's writing — that signature is! Do you 
know. Sears, Sue can imitate any man's 
signature so well as to defy detection!" 

"Do you mean to pay the note?" asked 

"Pay h ! Jen never gave that to you 

to be paid. She's just working you. Her 
little bluff don't go; and when you go up 
to the house, I want you to tell her so!" 
and with this he walked out of the room, 
leaving Sears standing with the paper in 
his hands. 

On an August evening, after Michael 
Sears had spent the afternoon dreaming at 
Kinnear Park in company with Ruth Til- 
don, as he was with a fluttering heart fix- 
ing himself up in his best to attend a church 
social with her, Mrs. Cloud knocked at his 

"Lizzie and I would like to invite you to 
spend the evening with us," said she, when 
he answered the call. 

"I am very sorry, Mrs. Cloud," he replied, 
"but I have already promised to attend a 
church affair this evening; however," he 
added, as he saw a noticeable look of vex- 
ation and disappointment on her face, "I will 
be pleased to visit a while with you before 
I go!" 

bcrong, manly, handsome, attractive, he 
looked that evening, as he took a chair with 
Lizzie and her mother upon the veranda. 
"More charming than Wils ever was!" 
mused Mrs. Cloud, looking upon him with 
pleasure beaming from her eyes as he sat 
with Lizzie between his knees. A query 
flashed through her mind, "I wonder if Ruth 
Tildon will be at that church affair tonight!" 

The crimson glow of the setting sun 
shone in upon the three. Out before them 
the view of houses, business blocks and the 
bay was enveloped in a mellow glow of soft- 
ened sunlight. The Greyhound was coming 
up the bay from Everett and a long, thin 
line of white smoke hung in the atmo- 
sphere from her funnel. The waters of the 
Sound looked like a sea of yellow gold. 
Over, far beyond the shores, on the other 
side of the waters arose the Olympic Moun- 
tains. A line of white light streaked the 
outline of that row of peaks, while the 
mountain sides stood out bold and black 
against the glowing sky. Down, down, to 
slip behind that shining line, which de- 
fined the irregular top of the mountain 
range, crept the dimming orb of day. For 

a while the sun hung In the heavens, as if 
immovable and pausing there to make a 
sitting for a picture. Looking out upon the 
scene the three sat and talked, happily and 
joyfully together. 

Mrs. Cloud with more fervor and interest 
than ever before led the conversation. 
Time did not seem to be the essence of 
that meeting. But, she did wish that she ' 
could make him forget his engagement. 
Try her best she did to lead his mind away 
from thinking of it. Then, as the time for 
him to go drew near, she thought of her 
business in regard to the note and asked: 

"What did Dick say, when you saw him?" 

"That it was a put up job against him," 
Sears answered. 

"Anything else?" 

"That your sister Sue forged the signa- 
ture, when you were visiting with her at 

"Did he?' 


"What else?" 

"And then he said that you never ex- 
pected him to pay it and that you had me 
see him about it just for a bluff; but that 
your game wouldn't work and that he didn't 
intend to pay it and never would. I thought 
It was very ungentlemanly to speak as he 

"Humph! Well! You go right ahead. 
Mr. Sears, and make out the papers; I will 
sue him and show him a thing or two!" 

"My!" exclaimed Mr. Sears, looking at 
his watch i at this juncture, "if it isn't a 
quarter after eight, and I promised to be 
at the church at seven-thirty!" and aris- 
ing to go he said, "I will fix up the papers 
tomorrow, Mrs. Cloud, and you can sign 

"All right!" cheerfully respo];ided Mrs. 
Cloud, feeling certain in her mind now 
that, if he intended to take Miss Tildon to 
the social, it was far too late to do so now. 
As he moved away she remarked, "You 
know you are not in the same ofllce now 
with Dick and can sue him without any 
compunctions. I hope you will have a pleas- 
ant time at the church! Good-night!" 

"Good-night!" he replied, calling back to 
Lizzie's "good-byes" when he had passed 
through the gate, "Good-night, Lizzie! 
Sleep tight and don't let the fleas bite!" 

Rushing into the first store he came to, he 
went to the telephone and called up the 
Tildon residence and asked if Miss Ruth was 

"No!" came the response, "she has just 
left with her mother for the church!," 

(To he conlinued.) 


A Shattered Idol 

By John E. M. Shea, Clear Lake, Wabhinotos. 

Among the distant bllle of Nome, in the quiet 
of an evening hour, a BolUary figure bUb beside a 
small wood-flre before hla open tent. A little bird, 
strayed away from Its' fellows, and evidently as 
lonely aa himaelf. sings a sweet, plaintive song for 
its own and bis amusement, while the rippling 
waters of a friendly brook murmur In an unknown 
tongue greeting as tbey pass before him on their 
way to tbe sea. The great. Impassable peaks of 
the mountains, majestic in their invincible soli- 
tude, and frowning down upon him In sombre 
silence, seem to contain within their mysterious 
shadow Bome mighty presence akin to the Infinite. 
Precious flowers, unpolluted by the breath of hu- 
man dissipations, and uplifting their holy faces to 
offer Incense to the Spirit of the hillB, tender bim 
a kindly salutation in their aromatic perfumes 
from tinted lips of perfect mould. 

He sees tbe bird, the brook, the flowers and the 
hills, and he hears the great, sad Bound of tbe 
wind- swept sea, as its tortured billows thunder 
against the distant beach. Beyond all these, the 
unplctured canopy of heaven Imposes an Impene- 
trable barrier to his vision of other spheres, and 
makes the thlnga of earth appear the exclusive 
work of God'B creation. 

This tented stranger came not over sea and 
ocean in quest of gold, nor yet to view the glorious 
septentrlon. in whose scenic temple the shrine- 
light never fades. 

Sitting there in the open world, be takes a let- 
ter from his pocket, and, perhaps for the hundredth i 
time, begins to read the following: 
•■Dr. James Eamlngton Wentwortb's Son, 

■New York City, U. S. A. 

"Sir — You are requested to set out Immediately 
for Nome, where, after landing, proceed along tlie j,„jj 

sea-beach to the second river towards the setting 

sun. Ascend this river to the first mountain pass, and there encamp. Important news 
awaits you. But you must come alone, otherwise your Journey will be fruitless. 

"U. A.'" 

"Oh, my fatherf can it be that tbe mystery of your fate is about to be revealed? 
The connection of your name with this strange request would seem to justify my hope. 
But now that I am here, what next is to be done?" 

"You will follow mel" said a voice behind him. 

Startled by this Budden and unexpected answer to his question, be hastily arises 
and turns to face his auditor, an aged person, of kindly mien, of long white hair and 
grizzled beard, and of a gentle voice but searching, deep-blue eyes. 

"Sir! Is it then to you that I am indebted for this letter?'- 

"It Is; and you must follow me, If you care to accomplish the object of your journey.' 



Together they leave the tent and fire- 
place, and silently ascend the mountain- 
side; the elder from force of habit commun- 
ing with his thoughts, the younger prepar- 
ing his mind for the expected revelation. 

When half way to the summit, they face 
a perpendicular wall of rock, in the uneven 
side of which the old man exposes an en- 
trance to a cave, and they pass within. 

A bright light suspended from the dome- 
like roof serves to dispel a portion of the in- 
terior gloom, and to disclose the rich adorn- 
ment of this rock-imprisoned home. 

Two monster blood-hounds spring to greet 
their master. 

••Well, Duke! Well. Amble!— My faithful 
guardian friends! You are always pleased 
to see me," and he tenderly caresses them. 

"Please be seated. Mr. Wentworth. and 
excuse me for a moment, while I go to reg- 
ulate the heat, which these rascals have ne- 
glected in my absence." and he hastens with- 
in the curtained darkness that obscures the 
distant portion of the cave. 

But scarcely had the old man passed from 
view when the graceful form of a lovely 
maid appears. And so sudden is the ap- 
parent transformation, that age with its 
attendant deformities seems to have re- 
solved itself into youth and beauty, with 
that same facility with which surprise gives 
way to pleasuie in the young man's mind 
as he beholds the change. 

Yet. vision or reality, his mind betrays a 
doubt, as unlike an ordinary mortal, she 
approaches in the air. Her stainless purity 
of features, crowned, as by an aureola, with 
mellow golden hair, and the grace and sym- 
metry of her sylph-like figure, a fitter model 
for a Venus than fabled Venus was herself, 
enchains his senses while he receives in 
speechless wonder a liquid-brimming goblet 
from her outstretched hand. 

To quaff the goblet's contents, odd but 
pleasant to the taste; to return the empty 
vessel without a word, but looking thank- 
fully into her clear blue eyes; to see her 
proceed silently again to the distant shadow 
and disappear, just as his aged host and 
benefactor return?, are but seeming evolu- 
tions of a semi-conscious dream. 

'•Well! how fared it with my friend while 
I was gone?' 

"Fared! I have been wined and feasted! 
And never man drank such wine, and never 
man saw such maiden loveliness before. 

"Tell me. sir, is she your daughter? And 
may I have the privilege of seeing her 
again ere I return to my temporary dwell- 
ing in the valley?" 

"But which must you have first — the 
maiden or the news?" 
"Why not both together, sir?" 
"Patience, Eamington. The news will 
keep until tomorrow, for the son of my for- 
mer friend must spend the night with me. 

"As for the maiden, she is diffident and 
shy ; rather averse to company ; nor will she 
engage at all in conversation. Just for a 
moment, therefore, shall I have her hither, 
if you promise to excuse her after," and he 
touches an electric apparatus in the wall. 

Trembling with expectancy, the young 
man notes the fiutter of a garment just 
where light and darkness struggle in 
silence for supremacy, and then there ap- 
pears to his delighted vision, and myster- 
iously fioating in the air to meet them, the 
precious object of his lavish thoughts. 

Conveniently near for critical inspection, 
lightly, now, she stands upon the cavern 
floor, and her charms flash their dazzling 
splendor to the heart of the fascinated 
youth, while the elder man accords the in- 

"Ziba, this is Mr. Wentworth!" 
"Mr. Wentworth, my daughter; Miss Ar- 

There is heaven-tender kindness in the 
expression of her eyes, but from her lips 
no words of greeting come. Thus they meet 
and thus they part; and for one, 'tis a 
moment's purchased pleasure at the cost of 
an after-life of pain. 

The aged entertainer is amused to see his 
visitor's enraptured gaze fixed upon the 
form of his retreating daughter. 

"You must not fall in love with Ziba," he 
smilingly exclaims; "for she's an only child, 
tender, too, though comely, and to me as 
precious as dew-drop in a thirsty lily's cup." 
"Dr. Arlington, if love be a similitude of 
worship, then your precautionary counsel 
is tardily enjoined. Yet tell me. if I tres- 
pass not upon a strictly private matter, how 
is it that your daughter is able to disregard 
the well-established laws of gravitation?" 
An evasive answer is returned. 
"By a power that knows no limitations ex- 
cept the supernatural — the art of man. who, 
being fashioned in the likeness of his Mak- 
er, is hindered in the exercise of his high 
prerogative only by an insatiable desire for 
the pretty things of earth. Alas, how blind 
we are to a true conception of the real dig- 
nity of man's existence, which he himself 
has made the medium of a ceaseless strug- 
gle for supremacy and wealth; and to gain 
these, he does not hesitate to invoke the aid 
of arms. Yes, Mars is still, indeed, the idol 
of humanity, and so long as the nations re- 



pudiate a due respect for the sacredness of 
human life, thus long will individual homi- 
cides prevail. For what do our histories 
treat of and glorify but war, to instill into 
the hearts of the young the passion for 
murder and revenge? And, yet, we plead 
for universal peace. 

"It should be remembered that virtue has 
but a single code of morals, which is applic- 
able alike to society and the individual. 
Nor has one portion of society a better right 
to encroach upon the territory of another por- 
tion than has the individual to deprive a 
neighbor of his possessions. In either case, 
the ability to effect does not justify the 

"Let a nation once depart from the path 
of rectitude, and the deprivation forever 
after of influence for good must be the re- 
sult. Hence the constant, jealous efforts 
of European powers to divert our beloved 
republic from the pursuit of those high 
ideals which alone can afford a sufficient 
guarantee of good government and content- 
ed citizens. 

**I appeal not, as men in the senate have 
appealed, to the sacred memory of the illus- 
trious dead, but to our Immaculate Inherit- 
ance — the living, liberty-eloquent constitu- 
tion of an unfettered people, whose every 
heart-throb is an ardent protest against ag- 
gression and oppression." 

Alter this manner did the sage of the 
Arctic continue his uninterrupted discourse 
until the muffled tones of an unseen clock 
striking the hour of midnight, apprised him 
of his more appreciable duties to a weary 

Little did the young man think, as he sat 
there and patiently listened to those Idle 
utterances from a senile mind, so sadly 
out of harmony with the living Issues of the 
day, that they were to be almost the last 
words those aged lips would ever use. 

It seemed to Wentworth that he had 
scarcely fallen asleep, when he was rudely 
awakened by a vigorous pulling at his el- 
bow, and on turning to observe the cause, 
he beheld Amble rushing excitedly back and 
forth from his bed to the main portion of 
the cave, by which strange conduct he at 
once concluded that something serious had 
happened, and that the dog was soliciting 
his assistance. 

Immediately jumping out of bed, and 
hastily donning his outer garments, he 
caught up the night-lamp that was already 
lighted on the table near at hand, and fol- 
lowed after the retreating animal. 

He soon found himself In another cham- 
ber similar in size and appearance to the 

one he had just left, and stretched upon a 
couch of furs was the venerable form of the 
aged recluse, whose pallid and contorted 
features showed that he was 111 and suffered 

"Dr. Arlington, what is the matter? 
What can I do for you?" 

There was no response in words, but the 
old man pointed to his heart. It was beat- 
ing furiously, as Wentworth learned upon 
examination, and he became very much 

"Where Is your daughter? Do you wish 
to see her?" 

"My daughter," was the scarcely audible 
reply, "I go to meet her I" 

Evidently, the aged sufferer's mind was 
wandering. Yet Ije turned his eyes towards 
the faithful hounds, signaled them to ap- 
proach, gently stroked the head of each, and 
then with a trembling sigh expired. 

It would be dlfllcult to appreciate the feel- 
ings of Wentworth at that moment. Far 
from his home, amid strange surroundings, 
and practically entombed in the earth, with 
the corpse of his recent host to keep him 
company, his was certainly an unenviable 

But whatever his reflections, they were 
soon Interrupted by a noise that seemed to 
originate In a distant portion of the cave. 

Could some further evil be In progress? 

He turned to see what effect the noise 
would have upon the dogs. Both of them 
had disappeared. 

Again seizing his lamp, and rushing Into 
the main cavern, he made towards the di- 
rection of the sound. 

The cave was wide, the floor smooth and 
his way was unimpeded, so that he was able 
to make good progress, and soon he came 
upon a sight that fairly chilled his blood. 

Prostrate upon the floor, with torn gar- 
ments and dishevelled hair, was the fair 
form of the maiden who had won his heart, 
while the two hounds were jumping on and 
biting at her person In a most flendlsh 

The truth flashed upon his mind at once. 
The savage brutes, released forever from 
the controlling Influence of their master, 
were now wreaking an awful vengeance, for 
some remembered slight, upon their unpro- 
tected mistress. 

Without a moment's thought as to his 
own danger, he caught up a chair, the near- 
est available weapon that he could flnd, and 
quickly beat the monsters off. Then falling 
upon his knees beside the Injured maiden, 
he proceeded to raise her tenderly from the 
floor. But with the first touch of that dell- 



cately-moulded figure his dream of love was 
dissipated, and he awoke to the realization 
of the bitter truth. Those precious hands, 
that dear face, and that beloved form were 
neither dead nor living flesh, such as men 
are wont to lavish all the rich affection of 
their hearts upon, but a loveless, bloodless, 
soulless image. And with this knowledge 
of his lost and wasted love, the stricken 
youth exclaimed: 

"My shattered idol! He named thee 
Ziba — name significant of war. And, oh! 
that the idol of nations might be shattered 
too, with thee!" 

The entire body of the figure was con- 
structed of a most intricate network of fine 
steel wires and silken air-bulbs, while the 
face and hands were made of some strange 
material, very light and thin, but quite sub- 

To the roof of the cave, for its entire 
length, were fastened powerful magnetic 
bars, which could be readily shifted in any 
direction at either end; and these in turn 
were operated upon by an electric current, 
controlled by button attachments at differ- 
ent places in the walls. 

In fine, the entire combination was so in- 
geniously arranged that by an application 
of the magnetic power from the suspended 
rods to a thin steel plate or disk in the head 
of the image the figure could be easily 
raised to any distance from the floor, and 
then set in motion by means of the electric 

The only thing human about this imita- 
tion was its glorious head of hair — a last 
and slenderer thread for wounded love to 
cling to. And as Wentworth undertook to 
inspect this more closely, a secret spring 
snapped somewhere, and the whole mass of 
lovely tresses tumbled into his lap, while. 

at the same time, a folded paper fell to the 

He picked the paper up, opened it and 
eagerly perused its contents, which ran as 
follows : 

''Believing in the immortality of the soul,, 
and in the future punishment for sin, I do 
solemnly deny that I ever had anything to 
do with the death or disappearance of 
James E. Wentworth. Nor do I believe 
otherwise than that he is still alive and in- 
carcerated in an asylum for the insane, at 
the instance of the very persons who suc- 
ceeded in placing the responsibility for hia 
murder upon me, his trusted friend, so that 
they might have undisputed right to handle 
his enormous wealth. Therefore, let due 
investigation be made, that wrong may be 
righted and the guilty parties punished. 

"The image, in the head of which thia 
paper is concealed, is an exact likeness of 
my only and well-beloved daughter, who 
died of a broken heart because of the crim- 
inal charges preferred against her father. 
But ere they laid her precious form to rest, 
within the silent tomb, I severed the match- 
less tresses from her shapely head and after- 
wards, to make the likeness more complete^ 
attached them to this flgure, the construc- 
tion of which has cost me many months of 
unremitted labor. But it was a labor of 
love, as well as an occupation in my vol- 
untary exile, for which instead of death 1 
am indebted to the kindness of my friends. 

*'As for the image itself, I have instructed 
my faithful hounds to destroy it immediate- 
ly after the termination of my life, so that 
no one shall be able to discover my plan of 
aerial locomotion. 

"Into God's gracious care I commit myself. 

"Good-by ! 


I love to wake at the first peep of day. 

When timui'oiiR and shy the modest dawn 

Comes stealthily between the curtains drawn 
Aside. I love to hear the roundelay 
Of birds, as merrily they sing and play 

Among the trees ; to walk across the lawn 

And tread on diamonds scattered thickly on 
The thirsty grass ; to wander far away 
Among the forest trees, where leaves are bi;;Ight 

Because awakened from their last sweet sleep. 
They know they dreamed pressed against the cheeks of Xlght. 

I love to drink these beauties, and to keep 
Forever fresh these pictures which the light 

Paints gloriously, yet soft, at day's first peep. 

— Okuill V. STAPr, Seattle, Washington. 


Pacific County, Washington 

Tbere is & grandeur, a glory, an over- 
whelming Bubllmlty which oTercomes the 
mind ol man when he is brought In close 
touch vlth the vast works of the Infinite 
which cow hlB aspiring amhitloiis and awe 
him Into admiring wonder. From the moun- 
tain peak the eye can gaze over the valley 
and see the wealth of timber in almost In- 
exbaustible quantity placed there tor his 
use; he can dig into the bowels ot the moun- 
tain and find the treasure stored there unto 

nesB and be animated and exhilarated with 
the boundleae grandeur of a benign life. 

Pacific County, Washington, although 
among the smaller in area, is large in re- 
sources and great in opportunities. Here 
we find six distinct avenues open for indus- 
trial and commercial activity: lumbering, 
Ashing, oysterlDg. dairying, cranberry rais- 
ing, and the conducting of sea-siae resorts. 

The merchantable timber in this county is 
estimated at 7,813,000,000 feet, in the cut- 

Courteiv of the South Bend JoumaL 

the day of his coming; looking afar he can 
behold the evermovlng, restless ocean with 
Its winged messengers ot commerce and 
trade. Even the waters which roll at the 
foot ot the exalted summit, his viewpoint, 
as ther lave the pebbles along the shore are 
teeming with the silvery wealth — the life of 
tbe sea. Reveling in the pleasures and en- 
joyments of the surf or riding upon the 
bosom ot the heaving, tossing ocean, the 
soul can look out upon tbe beauties and 
Tories of an evergreen nature, in all Its 
ponderous greatness and magnlSccnt vast- 

ting ot which there has scarcely been made 
a beginning. It ranks fifth in the state. 
Last fall the most severe forest Ores ever 
known raged over the timber districts and ran 
up to and even Into many ot the towns and 
settlements, but It is esUmated that little 
damage has been done to green timber, tbe 
trees which were burned being marketable 
If cut within two years. There are numer- 
ous small mills along the line of the North- 
ern Pacinc Railroad which enters Into the 
cotiaty, three plants at South Bend, a large 
mill at Knappton and several ether parts of 



the county. The North River, the Nasel, 
the Nemah, Willapa, Palix and branches 
emptying into Willapa Harbor alone offer 
200 miles for logging purposes. 

The fishing industry maintains large can- 
neries at Chinook, another at South Bend 
and a building at Ilwaco, for the canning of 
the famous Columbia River salmon. A 
fish hatchery is in operation at Chinook to 
provide for the propagation of the product. 
Many fish are caught in Pacific County 
^waters and taken to Astoria in Oregon to be 

Oystering is a most profitable occupation 
and is engaged in heavily over the shoal 
waters of Willapa Harbor and will be 
spoken of especially in the paragraphs con- 
sidering Bay Center, Toke's Point and Oys- 

The wide areas of logged-off lands and 
the tide-fiats which can be diked in are es- 
pecially adapted to dairying; the cranberry 
marshes near Ilwaco are deserving of men- 
tion, and the great ocean beach, where roll 
the great wild billows of the Pacific, ex- 
tending for twenty miles along a sandy bot- 
tom, is as interesting as it is delightful. 

South Bend, the county seat of Pacific 
County, lies at the head of Willapa Harbor 
and is the terminus of the local branch of 
the Northern Pacific Railroad. The first 
known settlement at this place was made 
by V. S. and J. Riddell, who in 1868 cleared 
the ground for the South Bend lumber mill, 
the machinery having been brought in by 
the brig ^'Orient," which Capt. John Riddell 
piloted in himself. The first load of lumber 
was shipped to San Francisco in 1870. In 
1873 the mill was sold to John Wood, James 
Miller and Jacob Jordan. Later on it passed 
into the hands of A. M. Simpson who made 
it a branch of the Simpson Lumber Com- 
pany. The Simpson Lumber Company se- 
cured the establishment of a postoffice and 
called the place "South Bend" because of 
the bend the Willapa River here makes to 
the south. John Rose in the '70s took up 
a quarter section of land adjoining the mill 
site and thus matters ran on until 1889 
when the present town was founded. 

In 1889. when the Northern Pacific Rail- 
road was building to the Pacific coast and 
many towns had been projected and boom- 
ed as the western terminus, George U. Hol- 
comb, L. N. Ecklund, Philander Sweet and 
C. A. Warner organized the South Bend 
Land Company and coming upon the scene 
of action purchased the land owned by John 
Rose and proceeded to lay out a townsite. 
In that same year, attracted by the feasibil- 
ity of the location for a western terminus, 

because of the most excellent natural har- 
bor — the bar at the mouth of the harbor 
being eighteen feet under water at the low- 
est low tide, thus constituting it the best har- 
bor between San Francisco and the Straits, 
of Juan de Fuca — and the fact that by build- 
ing a short cut through Yakima County and 
Lewis County via the Cowlitz Pass and Che- 
halis a most desirable railway line could be 
constructed through to the Pacific Ocean, a 
number of men who were interested in the 
Northern Pacific Railroad organized the 
Northern Land and Development Company 
and an agreement was entered into whereby 
a one-half interest in all the holdings of the 
South Bend Land Company was given as a 
subsidy to this new company if they would 
build a railroad in to the new town connect- 
ing with the Northern Pacific line at Che- 

Little thought was given to the feasibil- 
ity of establishing a permanent town at this 
point by the original projectors, their chief 
aim being to buy land, lay out lots and sell 
to get their money back, but with the com- 
ing of the railroad the place took on another 
phase. During the winter of 1890-1 the town 
boomed. The streets were planked at the 
enormous cost of $125,000. The place had 
a population of 3,500 people. In 1890 the 
place incorporated with George U. Holcomb,, 
mayor. J, M. Ashton, chief counsel of the 
Northern Pacific Railroad at the time, spent 
$75,000 in building a magnificent hotel a 
few blocks from the depot, which never 
opened it doors. A dredger worked day 
and night for eighteen months in 1892-3, 
filling in the tide lands for the Northern 
Pacific terminals and back to the hills. 

In 1890 the postoffice was moved from the 
mill and established in the new town with 
Dr. S. A. Rounds postmaster. The first 
store was opened by Job Lamley, who built 
the second building in the place. That 
same year the First National Bank was es- 
tablished and put up the first building in 
South Bend. This institution failed in 
1895. The Pacific County Bank was started 
in 1890 and continued three years. It vf&u 
succeeded in 1891 by the American Ex- 
change Bank, operated by J. W. Maxwell, 
who liquidated in 1899 when the South Bend 
Banking Company was established by 
Joseph G. Heim, Werley Brothers, W. R. 
Marion, George Foster, George Bale and S. 
H. Eichner, which is running at the present 

South Bend's first physician was Wilson 
Gruwell. Charles Foster who was the town's 
second mayor, opened the first hotel in 
1889, which he called the "Foster House." 



The flrat attorney was W. H. Brlnker. now 
o( Seattle. He was tollowea by H. W. B 
Hewen and W. B. Stratton, tbe present At- 
torney General ol the State of Washington. 
E;.'W. Albee la 1890 built the Albee House, 
which be eold to Joseph Helm In 1891. to 
whose credit it should be said that during 
tbe bard times In the SO's he kept open with 
B. pecuniary loss to himself. A magnificent 
new hotel has just been built by E. C. Car- 
It is recounted as characteristic of G. U. 
Holoomb. one ot the founders of South 
Bend, that when the workmen were con- 
structing the sidewalks of tbe place he 

the bead of tbe concern, la one ot tbe vet- 
eran lumbermen of the Pacific Cout This 
Company also operates tbe mill at Knappton. 
ot which we present a view. They give 
employment to a large number ot men. The 
next In importance is tbe Kleeb Lumber 
Company which was established In 1898, 
baa a capacity of 150.000 feet every twenty 
hours and employs 115 workmen. The 
Columbia Box ft Lumber Company waa es- 
tablished in 1897, the present organization 
being formed In 1899. The saw mill has a 
capacity ot 40,000 feet every ten hours; the 
planing mill 10,000 teet, and the box factory 
10,000 feet. Employment Is given to forty- 

Courlai/ of the Vlllapa Harbor Pilot. 

came up to where they were at work and 
taking a hammer from the bands ot one of 
them, he drove ten nails. Straightening up 
he asked a bystander what be thought the 
work was worth. When the fellow replied 
that he guessed about ten cents, a look of 
scorn passed over Hotcomb's face and be 
Immediately went into his office and marked 
up the price ot lots to tbe tune ot (10,000. 

The chief maintenance of South Bend at 
tbe present time Is Its lumbering industries. 
Tbe Simpson Lumber Company conducts 
the largest Institution ot this class In the 
place. Their mill has a capacity of 90,000 
feet every ten hours. Capt. A. M. Simpson, 

five workmen. This company also operates 
the steamer "Sequoia" between this place 
and San Francisco, making trips every two 
weeks. Tbe timber tributary to these miila 
consists of fir. spruce and cedar and Is 
abundant. Bxcellent opportunities present 
themselves for other mills and wood-work- 
ing factories. It is estimated that 300,000 
acres of untouched timber lie adjacent to 
South Bend. Another saw mill and shingle 
mill and a door and sash factory have Just 
been completed. The total yearly output of 
the Industry'here has been estimated at 80.- 
000,000 teet. 

In 1892 a water works system was Inau- 



gurated and an electric light plant put in 
operation which is operated hy water power 
from a falls near the town, an illustration 
of ^hich is given herewith. The city at the 
present time has five churches, sixteen 
lodges and secret orders, and maintains a 
fine K. of P. hall. The school enrollment 
is about 324 pupils. The present city of- 
ficials are F. H. Copenspire, mayor; F. A. 
Hazeltine, treasurer; H. W. B. Hewen, at- 
torney; Val Heath, clerk; A. P. Leonard, J. 
H. Drissler, H. F. Peters, F. R. Wright, Geo. 
Cassels, W. B. Murdock and J. A. Vickery, 

The shipping facilities are excellent. The 
Northern Pacific Railroad maintains a pas- 
senger and freight service, and numerous 
steam and sailing vessels ply from this port, 
noticeable of which are the steamer "Reli- 
able," A. W. Reed, owner and master, which 
plies between points on Willapa Bay and 
carries the mail, and the "Cruiser," plying 
between Tokeland and Nahcotta and South 

Pacific County may well be proud of its 
oyster industry. Upon Willapa Harbor 
(Shoal Water Bay) there are between three 
and four thousand acres of oyster lands, the 
chief settlements or shipping points of 
which are Bay Center, Oysterville, Bruce- 
port and Tokeland. The business is divid- 
ed into two classes — the cultivation of na- 
tive seed and the shipping in of eastern seed 
oysters. From the latest obtainable United 
States government reports we learn that in 
1899 Pacific County yielded 2,825,000 pounds 
of oysters with a value of $90,000.00, which 
was more than any other county in the state. 
There were taken from the beds here dur- 
ing that time within 131,320 pounds as 
many oysters as in Thurston and Mason 
Counties combined, with the result that 
they were worth $9,933 more. This is based 
upon the native oyster output. Comparing 
this with the native oyster output of Cali- 
fornia during the same year, we find that 
it falls 775,000 pounds behind, but is valued 
at $15,000.00 more. In 1901 this district 
yielded 6,300,000 pounds and in 1902 6,750,- 
000 pounds. 

Among those engaged in the oyster in- 
dustry on Willapa Harbor are Morgan 
Oyster Company, W. R. Marion, manager; 
A. S. Bush & Sons. Harry Gracey, G. W. 
Brown, T. J. Charawell, L. H. Rhoades, L. 
A. Rhoades, R. D. Rhoades, Roy Mills, Wm. 
Mills, Z. Tabell, C. Jacobson, F. Springer, 
Q. W. Wilson, Q. W. Wilson, Jr., Ed. Wil- 
son, H. M. Wilson, John Wilson, Wm. 
Greinier, H. H. Brown, Andy Horn, Frank 
Barachio, Bert Compton, Harry Bochau, R. 

O. Landfare, Chas. Reed, Peter Waldo, Chas. 
Moore, Chas. Anderson, Frank Goodpasture, 
Bay Center; M. Wachmuth & Sons, Davis 
& Holman (native and eastern), Clark ft 
Greenman Brothers, Chas, Nelson & Sons, 
Henry Nelson, Ned Osborne, A. Wirt, John 
Klusky, Mr. Anderson, H. J. Weigardt, 
Andrew Olson, Ketzer Brothers, Al Car- 
uthers and Harvey Bowen, Oysterville: 
Clark Brothers, J. Riddell, Albert Riddell,. 
Mr. Hlggins, J. Stout, Mrs. McBride, P. 
Peterson and F. Smith, Bruceport; Toke 
Point Oyster Co., Wallace Stuart manager,, 
(eastern oysters), Harry Fisher (native), 

About one-half of Willapa Harbor is re- 
served by the state for seed grounds, but 
there are only about 10,000 acres which 
yield. These grounds yield approximately 
3,000 bushels of seed per acre. A feature 
of the industry here is the fact that all of 
the oyster beds are planted, that is, the 
oysters are taken from the natural seed 
grounds and sown, and there is estimated to 
be at the present time no less than from 
800,000 to 1,000,000 bushels of oysters plant- 
ed. It takes an oyster from two to five 
years upon the beds until it can be taken 
up and shipped. Some of the best grounds 
yield as high as t)00 to 700 sacks of 90 
pounds, when they are left for five years. 
There is a large fleet of oyster sloops 
maintained and kept up by the oystermen 
here because of the necessity of standing 
out in the channel and gathering seed to 
replenish their beds as they are depleted, 
and it is a pretty sight to see the great 
white-winged fleet starting out to the nat- 
ural seeding grounds each season. 

The oyster here is similar to the Puget 
Sound product, better known as the Olym- 
pia Oyster. It is hermaphrodite in charac- 
ter, small and sweet. It is known as the 
Shoal Water Bay Oyster and has a large 
and increasing demand in the markets of 
San Francisco and Portland. It brings at 
the beds $2.25 per sack of 90 pounds. 

Of late years much trouble and uneasi- 
ness has been felt because of the notice- 
able decrease of young growth in these 
waters, but experienced oystermen declare 
that in 1902 the spawn was larger and more 
numerous than it has ever before been 
known to exist, and much encouragement 
and hope is experienced among those en- 
gaged in the industry. The oystermen are a 
sober, industrious and thrifty class of peo- 
ple and it is a noteworthy fact that in each 
of the three oystering centers of popula- 
tion there are no saloons, although it is 


Bald liquor, wbeo necessary, can be easily 

Indians ot the Chlaook, Cbehalla and Till- 
amook tribes gather and cull tbe oysters 
and as a bit ot pleasantry at Long Island 
and Nemah, where the fleets go Tor se«id, 
the men have named the various bouses 
wherein they camp by the historical names 
of South African tame, Lady smith, Klm- 
berly, Pretoria, etc. 

The oyster commission of this county Is 
A. A. Compton, chairman, P. W. Stuart and 
L. L. Davis, 

In 189S the State of Washington planted 
a. car load ot eastern oyster seed at Bay 
Center to ascertain If they could be propa- 
gated, but they were all lost. However, 
private enterprise has aemonstrated that 
the eastern oyster seed can be transplanted 
to these waters and a profltable business 
carried on by its culture as has been ac- 

Tbe llrst store was opened by the Bay 
Center Oyster Cranpany in IgTG. In 188S 
A. S. Bush had tbe townslte replatted. It 
now maintains an excellent public school, 
graded to tbe eighth grade, and supports 
four churches— two for the whites and two 
tor the Indians. The hotel here Is named 
like the Elngllsh, "Bay Bull Hotel." 

Oystervilie, located near the head of the 
Peninsula, Is a thriving village and was the 
flrst county seat of Padflc County,- 1. A. 
Clark and R. H. Espy who came in 1863 are 
the reputed oldest settlers In the place. 
They engaged In the oystering business and 
named the place Oystervilie. It Is called 
the oldest town In the county, and was laid 
out In 1877. John Crellln was the first post- 
master here and received his appointment 
in 1866. The Oystervilie Oyster Company 
has ]u8t been organized here with M. B. 
Oreenman, president; F. A. Qreenman. sec- 

compUsbed by the Toke Point Oyster Com- 
pany at Tokeland, whose product is famed 
throughout the high-class restaurants and 
hotels ot the Paclllc Coast where they are 
known as the Toke Point Oyster. Eastern 
oysters have also been planted at Oyster- 
vllle by Davis & Bltner and M. Wachmuth. 
Several large companies have just been or- 
ganised which are entering into the ship- 
ping ot eastern seed to these waters and 
the cultivation carried on ot which more 
will be said at some future time. 

Bay Center Is the largest oyster town on 
the Harbor. John Morgan, Sam Welnart, 
Frank Qarretson and Tom Foster are pre- 
sumed to be tbe first white settlers at this 
point, having located here In 1850. The 
first house was built here by E. O. Reed in 
1873. Rhoades & Crafts laid out the town 
In 1874, in which year a postofRce was es- 
tablished with Mr. E. O. Heed In charge. 

retary; C. E. Kerlee, treasurer, which has a 
capital stock ot $66,000, and proposes to 
plant fifteen acres with eastern oyster 
seed. The shipping point ot Oystervilie Is 

Nahcotta Is at the Junction ot tbe narrow- 
gauge railroad running down along the 
beach to Ilwaco and here the boats from 
South Bend meet the trains. Tbe place 
was first settled by John Morgan in 1851. 
J. A, Moorehead & Co. established tbe first 
store In 1889 when the railroad was 
built to this point trom Ilwaco. Then J. P. 
Paul laid out a town on one side ot the rail- 
road which he named after tbe Indian Chief 
Nahcotta. B. A, Seaborg also laid out a 
town on the other side and called his Sea- 
land and secured a postofBce with James 
Morris In charge. The postofflce retained 
that name until 1893, wben It was changed 
to Nahcotta. 



M. this point spruce logs which are run 
dovn the Naael river and towed across the 
bay are loaded upon cars and hauled to 11- 
wBco. from whence they are taken up the 
Columbia river to Portland to be cut into 
lumber. This hauling of spruce logs was 
the prime reason tor the building ol the 
railroad to this point. 

llwaco IB at the terminus of the narrow 
gauKe railroad. After leaving Nahcotta the 
train passes through a timber section and 
then continues down the peninsula within 
sight of the Pacific ocean. Here eittends 
twenty miles of sandy beach, in upon which 
the great briny deep rolls Its waves of foam- 
ing surf. It Is a magnificent spectacle to be- 
hold the mighty waters as they dash against 
the well-washed shores. But of this we will 

chief ol the Chinook tribe. The name ot 
the postofilce was at this time changed to 
llwaco. Capt. Davey and Reese Williams 
came upon the scene of action In 1883. 
Isaac Wbealdon laid out Whealdonburg In 
1884, which is now a part ot the town. Oth- 
er oldtlmers are H. S'. Glle and Mr, Brlsco. 
The place is essentially a fishing town 
and the transfer point where summer pleas- 
ure seekers leave the boat and take the 
train tor the points along the ocean beacta- 
It Is a lively, t>UBtilng place In the summer 
time with trains running every few minutes 
and escuraion boats coming in from Port- 
land and Astoria. The Aberdeen Packing 
Company built a cannery here in 1880 which 
was operated until 1838 when It burned 
down, since which time the fish caught In 

y of the Willapa Harbor 

write at some other time. Soon we arrive 
at llwaco. 

llwaco Is the second town ot importance 
In Pacific County. It is a thriving, enter- 
prising place of about 800 souls. The first 
settler in these parts was J. D. Holman. who 
came to this section about 1850 and lo- 
cated a saw mill and opened a store be' 
tween this place and Fort Canby. Aiwut 
1661 a postofflce was secured for the new 
settlement and named Unity. J. L. Stout 
was the first postmaster. Mr. Holman bad 
a magnificent townslte laid out on paper 
In those early days. In ISTO a town was 
laid out, called llwaco, and named after a 

the traps and by the fishermen are taken 
across the Columbia River and sold to the 
canneries In Astoria to be canned and 
shipped to market. A movement Is on 
foot to build another. 

Many points of Interest are In and around 
this place. Fort Canby, with Capt. Brooh 
Payne In charge, quarters 200 federal troops. 
Fort Stevens across the river In Oregon has 
between 400 and &00 national troops. Fort 
Columbia is fn course ot construction. Of 
these defenses to the mouth of the Colum- 
bia Gen, Miles Is reported to have aald that 
they could be made the Gibraltar of Amer- 
ica. Then, within three miles of llwaco Is 



tke North Head lighthouse, ftn fnterestlng 
place to visit. 

The IIwBco Railroad and Navigation Com- 
pany, of which L. A. Loomls was president 
and J. R. Goulter eecretuy. built the line 
ot railroad which extends to Nahcotta In 
1887. The town went on a boom and in 
1891 Incorporated with B. J. Colvin maror. 
Then In the hard times came the relapse. 

In 1S»0 J. J. Brumbaugh ana J. A. How- 
erton established the first newspaper, the 
nwaco Advance. The Pacific Journal, which 
had been running at OTstervltle, was 
brought to this place In 1892 by J. 
W. Philips, who purchased the Advance 
tbat same year and consolidated the two. 
In 1896 the Pacific County "Tribune was es- 
tablished by a stock company and run for 
two years, when Its owners bought the Jou^ 
nal and changed the name of their publica- 
tion to tbe Journal as that name was the 
older. The Journal is now owned and ed- 
ited by A. N. Bobn, who bought It In 1900. 
' An Industry which has given this place 
much prominence Is tbe raising at cranber- 
ries. There Is a bog of about 6.000 acres 
near the town whicb Is adapted to the 
culture of that product, upon which the 
native wild crajiberry grows In profusion. 
In 1884 experiments were made In trans- 
planting cuttings of the cranberry vine 
from near Cape Cod, Hassachusetts. Forty 
acres were placed under cultivation and In 
1885 the plants were put in. The first yield 
was had in ISST and amounted to 600 bar- 
rels. In 1896 tlie patch yielded over 2,000 
barrels under diligent care and attention. 
Last year without any care or attention for 
the past Biz years the; yielded about 400 
barrels. Tbls trial was made upon the 

Cblbot ranch. Last year B. A. Landls off 
one acre which be planted seven years ago 
took 84 barrels which be sold for |8.00 each. 

In the hunting line duck and wild geese 
abound, and occasionally deer, elk and bear 
can be secured. 

Dwaco has many noticeably pretty and 
attractive homes and Is proud of tbe pub- 
lic shools which are here maintained. Tbe 
enrollment Is 175. J. F. Moran la principal, 
with O. R. Dinwiddle, Bessie Brumbaugh 
and Bessie Cotllngs, teachers. The board 
conslBtB of W. R. Snook, R. A. Hawkins and 
W. A. Orabam, with J. A. Howerton, clerk. 
There are several churches here supported 
and numerous secret orders and fraternal 
organizations flourish. 

Tbe present city officials are A. E. King, 
mayor; J. A. Howerton, clerk; C. E. Ker- 
lee, treasurer, and E. A. Seaborg, W. B. 
Hawkins, R. A. Hawkins. W. A. Orabam 
and Wilson Graham, council men. 

Pacific county is destined to become in 
the course of time one of the Important sec- 
tions of tbe State of WashluKton. The va- 
ried interests and the commercial and trade , 
facilities which nature has here planted In 
connection with the spirit of determination, 
enterprise and progress which Is manifest- 
ed by the leading citizens cannot fail to 
bring about large results. The people have 
recovered from the hard times of the panic 
and are building up substantially upon the 
ruins of tbe booming and grafting specu- 
lators who are seen no more. They are 
enjoying a targe measure of general pros- 
perity and have abiding talth in their local- 
ity and are looking Into the future with the 
hope and expectation of coming greatness. 



Original Stories 



A Joker Joked. 

H. B. Creel, of Watervllle, Washington, 
once told A. L. Rogers that he wanted a 
horse to match a favorite driver he owned, 
and would give him $250 if he would find one 
for him. As Creel is one of Douglas County's 
greatest jokers, and Rogers is as aspiring 
as he, the notion came into Mr. Rogers' 
mind to have a Joke at Creel's expense. One 
day he called Creel aside and remarked: 

"Creel, I've got a match for that horse of 

"Does she match in color, size and gen- 
eral make-up?" asked Creel. 

•You bet," assured Rogers. 
'Not over twelve years old, and full of 
life?" further queried Creel. 

**A perfect match," asserted Rogers. 
"Hitch up and we'll go out and look at her; 
if you don't get her at once some one may 
snatch her up before you do." 

Out they went to the country and an old 
pet horse belonging to Case, the banker, 
was shown the prospective horse buyer. 
The mare was only twenty years old, yet 
she looked like the kind Creel wanted in 
size, build and color. 

"Just put her into my bam," said Creel, 
after a hasty examination, "and if I find her 
on trial to be what I want I will pay you 
for her." 

Then Case stepped in and the deal was 
declared off, but Rogers never tired in Josh- 
ing Creel over "that horse deal." He whooped 
and hollered on every occasion. 

One day a prospector who had been out 
at work upon some land owned by Rogers 
near Entiat, on the bluffs of the Columbia 
River, seeking deposits of gold or gold- 
bearing ore, came into WaterviUe with 
some very fine-looking specimens of rock, 
which to the inexperienced looked to be 
rich with precious metal. Rogers was show- 
ing it to Pete Prlesinger, the druggist, and 
he proposed to analyze it for him. To this 
Rogers very promptly assented — he was anx- 
ious to know at once what value the stuff 
had. Now Friesinger, also, is somewhat of 
a Joker. 

He took a liberal supply of the ore and 
began pulverizing it In his mortar. As he 
worked he kept adding a fair supply of 

gold paint, stating as he put it in that it 
was a prepared "amalgam" he had dlscoT- 
ered to separate the gold. As the chemist 
worked the mass showed up a most bewitch- 
ing yellow. This interested Rogers more 
than words can describe, and with each 
step in the progress of the work he became 
more Interested, and at last, in a burst of 
excitement, exclaimed: 

"Pete, you're a fool to stay here in this 
place; you've got a fortune in that secret 
process of yours. You're an idiot to throw 
your life away in a place like this. That 
ought to make you a millionaire." 

At length It was ready to be washed. 
Lo! when the water was turned into the 
mass, a thin scum of gold began floating 
on the top. 

"It floats! It floats! Huh! Huh!" ex- 
claimed Rogers. 

"That's the way my preparation acts," 
explained Friesinger, and the eyes of the 
prospector bulged out like bullseyes. 

Rogers then stuck his finger into the 
glittering scum, and held it up, covered 
with shining color. Then, In a heat of ex- 
citement, he yelled at his partner, Milt 

"My stars, Milt! They's millions in It! * 
Huh! Huh!" 

How the wealth of Rogers Increased! 
Watervllle faded from his sight completely. 
The Klmberly diamond fields were no bet- 
ter than a plugged dime. He was so thor- 
oughly wrought up over the matter that he 
plunged both hands into the gleaming gold 
mass and stood transfixed, holding them 
up before him. He acted like a man in a 
dream. The local paper said: 

"His thumb represented the eclipse of J. 
P. Morgan. A glimpse of his forefinger 
made him decide to offer Rockefeller the 
position of special messenger. Before the 
revelations of his middle finger the steel 
trust faded into Innocuous desuetude. The 
other two retired all the greenbacks. The 
drippings of his palms drove the Bank of 
England out of business." 

In a glow of rapture and delight he again 
plunged both of his hands into the bow! 
flowing with golden cream. He seemed 
crazed with a desire to bathe in the gleam- 


ing and glittering treasure. It was riches, 
power, glory, wealth — fame beyond his most 
sanguine expectations. Then he glanced 
around at the crowd observing him with 
a look of supreme pity. 

Creel says that in that glance was de- 
picted contempt for the comparative failures 
of Napoleon, Cecil Rhodes and the Czar of 
Russia. He bought and sold not only towns 
and counties, but states and countries. Then 
he sighed as he contemplated there being 
no more to own. It is said he was Just 
about to light his cigar with a note for 
$1,000, drawing 12 per cent., with first-class 
real estate security, when H. B. Creel, who 
had been sent for by the wily druggist, 
came to the front and tried to get Roger's 
attention by asking him: 

"What about that horse deal, Rogers?" 

"Horse deal be hanged! Look at this! 
Did you ever see anything like it in your 
life? Huh! Huh!" 

"Oh, I don't know!" Creel sneeringly re- 
torted, handing him the open envelope which 
had contained the dry paint 

A stare of wonder at the envelope, a glare 
at the gleaming mass, a most crestfallen, 
expression on his countenance, and Rogers 
couldn't get out of the place quickly enough. 
Friesinger set up the cigars, and Rogers 
paid the bill, but he steadily avers he'll 
b^ hung before he ever goes to a druggist 
again to get gold ore assayed. 

A Narrow Escape. 

It is wonderful how near a fellow can 
come to death and yet come out unmarked. 
In the days at Wilbur, before the place 
was incorporated, a party by the name of 
Cole had a gin-mill there which was con- 
ducted in a pine-board shanty. When he 
had occasion to go away he would lock the 
place up, and no one was supposed to have 
a drink until he returned. One day Cole 
had occasion to go to the sawmill to get 
some lumber, and in his absence Frank 
O'Donold and a pal of his came into the 
town from Okanogan County. They were 
in a drunken condition, and upon coming 
up to the whisky Joint and finding the place 
locked and the keeper gone, O'Donold pro- 
ceeded to shoot off the lock with his six- 
shooter at the distance of sixty feet. After 
a few shots the lock fell, and he with his 
comrade went in and took possession. 

At this juncture J. M. Parish came up 
and saw what was doing, and fearing lest 
the fellows when they had gotten more 
than a proper amount of the fiery liquid 
would turn in and clean up the town, he 
rushed into the place, and, assuming au- 
thority, demanded: 

"When you get your drink, you fellows 
clear out." 

O'Donold eyed him with scorn, but as 
he showed pluck and stood his ground, when 
they had taken a drink around, he, with his 
companion, made his departure. 

As they mounted their horses Parish 
stood by the doorway, watching them as 
they made ready to leave. 

"I just believe I'll toke a shot at that fel- 
low who put me out," muttered O'Donold; 
and he calmly threw his gun across his 
arm in the direction of the door. Parish 
saw the move and jumped instantly to one 
side, when a bullet crashed into the wood- 
work exactly where he had been standing. 
The fellows, whipping up their horses, 
soon disappeared. 

- Not Enough to Go Around. 

Jacob Ott, the son of the genial landlord 
of the Ritzville Hotel, is a boy exceedingly 
bright and in advance of his years. He at- 
tends all trains and looks to the convey- 
ance of baggage to and from the hotel. Sev- 
eral weeks ago Jacob was acting in the ca- 
pacity of night clerk, and during the dark 
hours had full and complete control of the 
hotel. It was hard to keep awake, but 
Jacob did it, and when the early morning 
train came in he locked up the house and 
met it. One morning a group of traveling 
men, tired, sleepy and worn, arrived, and 
were conducted to the hotel. After leaving 
them in, the young landlord built up a hot 
fire and proceeded to make some coffee in 
a large quart tin cup. The aroma of the 
delightful beverage filled the room and 
tickled every drummer's palate with its 
odor. There was a period of expectancy. 
At length, when the crucial point arrived, 
Jacob stepped up to the stove, took the cup, 
and, settling down in one of the roomy of- 
fice chairs, he said: 

"Boys, I'm sorry, I ha'n't got enough to go 
around!" and then drank it all himself. 

Stole a Courthouse. 
Sunday, February 4, 1893, is a famous day 
In the life of Hon. Marion D. Egbert, of 
South Bend, Wash. Prior to that time an 
election had been held in Pacific County, 
and according to the returns it had been 
decided to move the courthouse from Oys- 
terville to South Bend, a new and thriving 
town only a few years old, but a rustler. 
The Oysterville people resisted with ' all 
their might the moving of the seat of jus- 
tice and its accompaniments, and asserted 
that the election had been carried by 
fraud. Action had been instituted to enjoin 


the removal of the records and other psra- 
pbernalla. Saturday night a masB meetlog 
was held In South Bead and It was decided 
to send over a body of men who would 
seize the entire outfit and bring It to their 
town. Mr. Egbert was the newl;-elected 
prosecuting attorn^, and under his direc- 
tions a leader was selected to do the woi'k. 
Elarly on Sunday momlng two steamboats 
and a barge were chartered, and amlilst 
much excitement tbe attaclUng party set 
out. Mr. E^gbert says he went along merely 
to see that tbe plans as prearranged would 
be carried out. 

Afl the boats neared their destination tbe 
man who was supposed to have the party 
In charge weakened, and, as Mr. Kgbert 
puts It: 

"I was compelled to take tbe lead my- 
self. I Just walked down the gangplank 
and up to those fellows and read them the 
riot act and ordered the sheriff to load the 
records and things onto the boats. Then 
we took everytbing in sight. 

"Oh, yes! The people at Oystervllle took 
the matter very hard and had me arrested 
for stealing the courthouse, but when the 
matter came up for trial 1 was very prompt- 
ly acquitted — there were only eleven men 
on tbe Jury who went over with me." 

Defended His Wife's Virtue. 
There was a degree of honor and Integ- 
rlty among some of the early Indians In 
Eastern Washington which was aetoaish- 
Ing. J. K. Worts, of Davenport, recounts 
that at one time be noticed a well-formed 
and attractive squaw, with a papoose about 
twelve years of age. sitting on a bank at the 
ferry where Division street now crosses 
the river in Spokane. A big buck was seen 
approaching her stealthily, when she would 
turn and throw rocks at blm and drive blm 
off. Seeing that bis efforts to get at her 
were futile, be apparently left, but Instead 
of departing made a detour, and getting in 
a point of vantage took aim and would have 

shot her had bis gun not missed Are. Says 

"The woman came running up to where 
I stood and begged for protection. I or- 
dered the Indian away, and he left. 

"A day or so afterward 1 beard cries for 
help, and rushing up to where they came 
from, I found this same buck on the ground 
with another standing over blm, beating blm 
on tbe head with a rock. I separated the 
fellows and took the one who was doing 
the beating away with me to keep him until 
the ferry would come over, wbea I would 
take blm across and send him off. He told 
me that the squaw and papoose whose lives 
I had saved a few days before were his, 
and asked me if 1 wouldn't let him Bnlsb 
the fellow on tbe boat when they came 

" 'After f collect the fares,' 1 suggested. 

"When we were In midstream I heard 
frightful yells and screams in the vicinity 
of the rear of the boat. Then I beard a 
splash and saw a fellow swimming down 
the river for dear life. The Indian who had 
made tbe little request of me soon came 
up to where I was steering and very quietly 
" 'I fix him.' Then he contentedly sat down. 

"I never saw the offending Indian again." 

A Novel Entertainment. 

J. L. Myers, of South Bend, Wash., is au- 
thority for the statement that In tbe first 
years of the town after It bsd been located 
by the South Bend Land Company, although 
there were all kinds of gambling and ordi- 
nary frontier excitement, Sunday afternoons 
would sometimes weigh heavily upon the 
settlers in the new town. Boat-rldlng grew 
monotonous and hunting was wearisome. 
Then, as he puts It: 

"The boys would go down to tbe mill and 
look at the old horse there, which was used 
to haul sawdust out on the dump, and was 
tbe only equine In tbe town, to see bow 
he was getting along." 




As the Coast Thinks 


Dear patron, a cheery, happy new year! 
Let us forget the hard trials and failures 
of the past and become renewed with hoi5e 
for the future with abounding faith in the 
ultimate achievement of permanent suc- 
cess. With this number the present man- 
agement of The Ck)AST enters upon a new 
year, and as the months come around a 
most earnest endeavor will be exerted to 
have each number of the magazine contain 
words of encouragement and joy amidst ar- 
ticles of pleasure and profit for the amuse- 
ment and betterment of each one of you. 

The plan for the past year has been to 
build up a general magazine of the West 
upon a legitimate and fair basis. All ef- 
forts have been made in this line, with a 
close determination to shun any kind of 
graft or buncomb. We have tried to pre- 
sent facts fairly and impartially. The ar- 
ticles of places throughout the West, with 
their illustrations, have been published 
solely at the expense of the magazine, and 
in no case have been subsidised. The mag- 
azine has been entirely maintained by its 
subscribers and the few advertisers who 
have found its pages advantageous as a 
medium to reach the public. The best 
stories obtainable from Western writers 
have been given space in its pages. All 
honest endeavors within the means and 
ability of the management have been put 
forth fairly and courageously to make the 
magazine a permanent and useful publica- 
tion. It has been the best which the pres- 
ent management, with the support It has 
received, has been able to put forth. 

The present finds the management with 
no reason to change its plan and method 
of operation, and as the confidence and 
trust of the people is more completely gain- 
ed it will do more and better work for the 
pe(H>le and localities where It finds support- 
ers. The Coast is a magazine for the peo- 
ple of the Northwest and their best inter- 
ests. As fast as its support increases it 
will increase in size and strengthen the 
nature and comprehensive character of 
its features. But at no time will it overstep 
the bounds of solid and safe business con- 
duct. It may as well be stated now as at 
some future time The CJoast Is established 

to stay, and will remain as long as fair, 
honest, worthy and determined efforts will 
maintain it. 

To those who have given The Coast their 
support and encouragement the editor de- 
sires to extend his sincere and heartfelt ap- 
preciation. He ever has before him the re- 
sponsibility which his position incurs. It 
is not only the interests and progress of the 
great Northwest which he endeavors to re- 
flect, but there are sentiments and princi- 
ples of social and domestic life in the North- 
west which he seeks to promulgate and en- 
courage. There is an incentive for a higher 
and nobler sphere of living which he en- 
deavors to instill into the hearts and minds 
of the people of the Northwest for their 
continued happiness and permanent pros- 
perity. All he has to give he offers; all he 
is able to do he tries to upbuild the right 
and overcome the wrong, not in specific 
cases, but in undying principles. He labors 
for the recognition of justice, the success 
of right, the purity of the home and the 
victory of truth. 

With these ambitions The Coast presents 
itself for the continued support and en- 
couragement of its patrons. It asks tha* 
flaws and errors will be overlooked, and the 
noble incentive will be recognized and fos- 
tered. For all it receives it will try to re- 
turn as full a measure as it can. In t>^'' 
year begun it will be what its patrons are 
willing to make it, and will accomplish so 
much as its supporters are willing to help 

A cheery, happy new year, dear reader! 


The new year is at hand. The old has 
passed, and with its passing buried beneath 
the debris of life's activities, to be forgotten 
in the heap of failures, many things gladly 
gone from sight. We stop and take a long 
breath as the old calendar is torn down and 
the new takes its place. This changing 
process does not mean that we are any bet- 
ter equipped for success, or that the path- 
way to victory is to be more easily trodden. 
It does not mean that we start in anew 
with a clean page before us, or that we 
for its coming are any stronger to accom- 
plish our ends than before. Nor does it 



mean that we are made better just because 
one year ended and another began. Such 
ideas are dreamy and visionary and as fool- 
ish and silly as they are absurd. One might 
just as well link with the passing of each 
day, hour or minute such a sentiment. 

In the great past time has lost its iden- 
tity. Years came and went. How many we 
know not. What specific things were begun 
and completed, or started and abandoned, 
no one can tell, much less imagine now. 
What we do know is, that all the labor, all 
the plans, all the results of the days gone 
by find their monumental refiection in the 
condition of affairs which exist today. 

So, we live, hour by hour, day by day, 
and year by year — many very foolishly 
dreaming about how time passes and idly 
measuring it as it goes, thinking of the to- 
morrow and dwelling in the past, rather 
than living in the present and doing some- 
thing as the days go by. 

The year is merely a yard-stick which a 
fool conjured with which to measure eter- 
nity. A great event occurs, and the one 
with the bauble starts to count. A good 
joke pops into his head, and he stops to 
tell the bit of pleasantry. He and the others 
laugh, his finger slips, he makes a guess, 
and then begins again. Another gr,eat event 
occurs. Another fool starts in to count. So 
it goes. Measuring time! From eternity 
into eternity, of which all we know is the 

Life is not of the future, nor is it in the 
past. It is in the present. The one who 
has done is dead; the one who will do is 
not yet bom; the one who does lives and 
is today. 

New Year's day should really mean t 
as the chronicler renews his supply of \r 
lets we pause to inspect the web of life we 
are weaving, and, having so done, prepare 
our supply of woof and warp for another 
term of labor. It is also well to mend the 
broken threads of love which snapped as 
the loom of swiftly running events thunder- 
ed along. Ah! and then, New Year is the 
proper time to eradicate that spreading 
spot of hate which is blemishing the beau- 
tiful colors of friendship, kinship or .do- 
mestic ties. 

New Year is merely the day when the 
sighs of the sorrowing are breathed away 
into the glorious and bright light of the 
joyful and eternal hope of life. It is that 
day when faith is born fqr the future and 
happiness and content exists in the activ- 
ities and duties of the present. It is that 
day when the past is forgotten; the future 
trusted and the present utilized. 

New Year's day may come in any month 

during any week, but when it comes be 
mirthful and happy; be merry and glad; 
arise and sing; cry out for joy; put on the 
smile of pleasure; start the music of laugh- 
ter; run and leap with ecstacy; dance with 
the great rapture of health and strength, 
for the drowsy hours of waiting are now 
over — opportunity is now come — life, eternal 
and everlasting is now at hand and the ac- 
tivities of an unending existence are be- 


The unexpected wave of municipal reform 
which is passing over the United States is 
but the skirmish line of a great confiict. 
The battle is to come later. Under the 
cloak of morality and law, wearing the gar- 
ments of right and necessity, a condition of 
vice and depravity, a state of lustful de- 
bauchery and destructive venality has been 
allowed to inoculate its hideous, insinua- 
ting, degrading, defiling, lecherous, gan- 
grenous diseases into localities and dis- 
tricts, until at length the stench and rotten- 
ness of its contaminating, sloughing ulcere 
and its infectuous, germ-laden scabs have 
become so exceedingly numerous, brazen 
and offensive that heroic efforts must be 
resorted to in order to save the life of our 
great body politic. The maintenance of our 
homes, the preservation of our personal lib- 
erties, the enjoyment of private possessions, 
the integrity of our commercial intercourse, 
the continuance of our industrial pursuits, 
the purity of our political institutions, the 
stability and life of our grand fabric of 
governmental power and control, demands 
and requires a recession and retreat, imme> 
diate and permanent, from the close prox- 
imity it has gained to all that is good, true, 
noble, worthy, treasured and valuable. The 
enemy is not going to give up its advantage 
without a struggle. In national life, into 
state life, into municipal life, into rural 
life it has reached out its tenacles of de- 
struction and ruin, and will not be dis- 
lodged without a struggle. This great giant 
of evil may withdraw here and there, but 
it will hurl its minions against law and or- 
der to overcome right and peace in some 
other locality. It is manifested in the ex- 
istence of mythical corporations. It presents 
its effects in religious circles. It contam- 
inates society and trails its slime through 
the sacred precincts of the home. Every- 
where it goes it is known by its avaricious, 
greedy, selfish, hard, unprincipled, heart- 
less, unsatisfied disposition. No peace is 
secure, no happiness permanent, no life cer- 
tain, until it is driven out and entirely de- 
stroyed. The present movement evidencea 



an awakening to actual conditions. The 
real conflict is to come. The actual con- 
flict is near at hand. It must come. It will 
come. It will come quickly. 


It has been said that platforms are for 
parties to get into power, not to ride on. 
This is a lie. A man may think when he is 
elected to office he is through with the peo- 
ple. If he does, he is a fool. When a man 
goes before his fellows with a statement of 
duty in his mouth he must fulfil the obliga- 
tion he has placed upon himself or make 
himself a liar by word and a liar by deed. 
The people have learned to know that the 
most dangerous foe is the polite palaverer, 
who smilingly professes friendship while he 
filches the treasure from the pockets of his 
listener. The time is now here when hon- 
esty must rule In politics, or ruin will in- 
evitably overwhelm. ' There dare be no 
equivocation, else there will be disaster. A 
crisis in politics the nation over is at hand. 
The time has now come when law-makers 
must be honest and fair. The liberties and 
rights of the people, as well as the fate of 
the nation, are at stake. The people know 
and understand. Right and truth must and 
will prevail. 


Dear, good, kind grandmother! I remem- 
ber you as you sit by the fire, looking out 
of your accustomed window and lean back 
in your favorite chair. The silvery threads 
of your whitened locks mingle with the 
black of your lace cap. The wrinkles mark 
the scathing run of time and are outlined 
where the dimples used to play in younger 
days. Your hands are folded in your lap 
and the trembling fingers Interlace. Your 
dimming vision roams across the landscape, 
but the objects there find no reflection In 
your mind. You live in the days gone by. 
Your heart Is thrilled with the deeds the 
present generation do not see. Your soul 
Is warmed by the heroic and glorious of two 
generations ago. Tears come to your eyes — 
tears of joy that you and yours were noble, 
grand and courageous. The glory of your 
life is the good you have done. You feel the 
thrill even now of that gentle touch when 
you smoothed away the pain. You experi- 
ence again the blissful joy when you kissed 
away the bitter sting of hasty spoken words. 
You know once more of the glory of for- 
giving and being forgiven. The soft words 
of your tender rebuke ring in my ears as 
the hymn of wisdom and the anthem of true, 
pure love. Loving grandmother, your bless- 
ing is my heart's great encouragement; your 

benediction my soul's first hope. In my 
meditations I experience the impulses which 
were your impulses whirling through my 
mind; then, as I go out into the world, I 
feel the noble blood, your blood, the active 
nerves, your nerves, the quickened . brain, 
your brain, moving me to do and be as you 
would have me. Soon the temple in which 
I live will be weatherworn and scarred by 
the storms of time, as the one in which you 
dwell, but the shrine where the spirit burns 
will ever gleam with the glory and beauty 
of true, pure and holy love, and be as spot- 
less and bright as the immaculate Power, 
who keeps, protects and cares for it, just as 
He does for yoiirs. You bend and look for- 
ward into the future? Ah! It is hidden. 
Soon the veil will be lifted. Then you will 
leave the temple wherein you now stay. 
But we shall not forget you. We shall for- 
ever remember the everlasting spirit For 
your loving heart you are never to be for- 
gotten. Dear, good, kind and patient grand- 
mother, you are the light, you are the ex- 
ample, you are the inspiration of my hope 
for future life and joy. I love you, grand- 
mother; I love you dearly. 


The warning which has been sent forth 
from one of the prominent bankers of New 
York in regard to the clouds of coming fi- 
nancial storms is a matter worthy of care- 
ful consideration. Such a cry in the midst 
of unsurpassed commercial and industrial 
activity comes as a great surprise, but 
those who should profit by its sounding will 
pay no heed to its words. They will rather 
go forward with greater zeal and more ener- 
getic activities than before to reap a har- 
vest and build larger barns for the mor- 
row. They are building their own sepul- 
chers. They are already in the throes of 
failure, and very righteously so, save that 
it is regretted that many innocent people 
must fail with them. Where these ruined 
speculators and manipulators are and who 
they are is not now known. They are con- 
cealed beneath a thin veneer of presumed 
prosperity. In the day when the reckon- 
ings must be made they will be known. 
Nothing really good can be gained but by 
giving value received. The purchase price 
may be brain, brawn, money or property, 
EQUIVALENT. It is better to be unfairly 
conservative than unfairly progressive. 
Honest, true and substantial advance- 
ment never retrogrades. Deceitful prog- 
ress never stands. The words of warn- 
ing should be faithfully and carefully con- 
sidered. If men do not get down to conduct- 



Ing business upon a solid basis, the great 
volume of water which they are damming 
up by artificial means for their own avarice 
and greed will burst its confines and sweep 
them out upon the raging seas of commer- 
cial pursuit and trade intercourse, where 
their bark of treachery and deceit will most 
ignominously fall apart into infinitesimal 
debris, and they go down to the depths of 
disaster and utter oblivion. Now is the 
time to be honest and fair. Now is the time 
to reach a place of safety. Now is the time 
to build for true success. Now is the time 
to plan and do aright. Now! Now! Before 
it is too late! 


Another of America's truly great men has 
left his earthly field of labor, and what we 
will see of him now is the record of life he 
builded while breath and opportunity lasted. 
As a man he was human, and the sting of 
his caustic tongue will be felt long after 
the occasion which gave opportunity for his 
words has been forgotten. As a statesman 
he gave to his party a set of rules which will 
remain as the abiding law of the country 
which he so faithfully served. Although 
affable and genial in his deportment, in the 
deliberations over which he had the dis- 
tinction to preside, he was unalterably auto- 
cratic and immovable. In his stability of 
character he was a giant Notwithstanding 
that his great ambition was not satisfied, 
and he never reached the presidential chair, 
yet his characteristic power was felt when- 
ever he exerted his overtowerlng mind. As 
it is, his public and private life was well 
rounded out, and he laid down his task of 
life well aware that where he was placed he 
did what was demanded of him and never 
wavered. In history he will be given a place 
among the great. His admirers speak of him 
with a frenzy; his enemies respect his name. 
His party leaders realize the loss of his 
counsel, and his country's savants feel the 
need of his advice. 


There is no denying the fact that our 
merchants and tradesmen are hounded to 
distraction by all kinds of schemes and 
grafts, which, when sifted to the bottom, 
are merely methods to separate them from 
their money. Unscrupulous, shiftless and 
unsettled parties are constantly promul- 
gating advertising propositions which, if 
they were honestly and faithfully fulfilled 
upon the part of the lying and stealing pro- 
moter, no doubt would have a beneficial in- 
fluence in behalf of the man who puts up 

the money; BUT THEY NEVER ARE 
OF THEIR PROMISES. In the first place 
they do not get out such a product as they, 
previously to the signing of the contract, 
assert they will. In the next place they 
do not print as many copies as they say they 
do. They are flatterers, deceivers, liars, 
thieves, blackmailers and holdup robbers 
of the most nefarious character. After 
their work is done, they flit to distant local- 
ities and catch a new set of suckers and gul- 
lible money-makers and have another feast. 
They operate within the pale of the law, 
and only the condemnation of words can 
reach them. It is the fancy steal. Is it 
not time to live within the lines and boun- 
daries of legitimate commercial pursuit and 
smother out these big-mitt grafts and ne- 
farious swindles by turning the amount of 
money so spent to the support and encour- 
agement of substantial and worthy local 


The sneaking cur who has no legal and 
just rights in his own name before the bar 
of justice, but who solicits the machinery 
of criminal prosecution to collect a civil 
debt is so sniffling small, and uncommonly 
degenerate that it is well he should be 
watched. Such are puffed up to bursting 
with self-conceit and arrogance. The sweat 
of overindulgence gives them a cold, clammy 
skin. They wallow in the slime of their 
own vanity. They are stained with the 
marks of their own secret pleasures. Crim- 
inal process should only be inaugurated 
when the welfare of the public is at stake. 
Prosecution should follow the violation of 
a principle of life, and it should emanate 
from a dislike for the violation, not hatred 
of the violator. Silly, idiotic creature he 
who calls for his mama to spank that big 
brother of his because he got the worst of 
the game he started himself. Such a per- 
son is a dribbling, slobbering, half-witted, 
worthless wretch, such as would shoot in 
the back or stab in the dark, and should be 
watched. He doesn't know the flrst princi- 
ple of manhood, courage and bravery, and 
shuns the concourse of manly, noble, up- 
right men. He's a braggart and a bully. He 
is a tyrant among those weaker than him- 
self. When he cries out, knowing he has 
no rights at law, he is the vandal, he is the 
violator, he is the real criminal. He, he him- 
self, is the guilty party and should be 




and Periodicals 

Tbe publishing houses of the United States 
bave been especially successful in gathering inter- 
esting and worthy manuscripts and presenting 
them at this holiday season. Harper and Brothers 
have taken the lead in their December issue of 
the Harper's Monthly and have presented to the 
reading public an excellent and beautiful periodi- 
cal, and the local editions of the Seattle Mail and 
Herald and the Seattle Argus are works of merit 
and art in the suitable articles and illustrations 
presented and the beautiful and attractive manner 
in which the mechanical part of their publications 

among the holiday t>oolLB is "The Tiger and the 
Insect," written by the popular author, John Hab- 
berton, who became famous by his production, 
"Helen's Babies," with delightful Illustrations by 
Walter Russell, a production of child-life. This 
story is a wholesome and pleasing tale for the 
children and a tale which arouses the interest of 
older readers. It is filled with tid-bits of human 
nature and is embellished by unusually character- 
istic childish simplicities. It is a book which 
merits a place in every home. "The Tiger and the 
Insect" teems with pathos and wit. It is a profit- 
able and proper gift to offer to any child who has 
an ambitious mind. All book-devouring children 
will read Its pages with avidity and delight. (R. 
H. Russell, New York. Price $1.20 net) 

ELDER & SHEPARD, of San Francisco, have 
been exceptionally successful in the procuring and 
offering to the holiday trade this season of worthy 
and meritorious productions. Eminently worthy 
of consideration is an essay, "The Philosophy of 
Despair," writen by Dr. David Starr Jordan and 
neatly and attractively t>ound in pamphlet form. 
This essay is forcibly and clearly written. A 
most Important principle of life is thus definitely 
«tated : "The life of man is dynamic, not static, 
act a condition, but a movement. 'Not enjoyment 
and not sorrow' is its end or justification. It is 
a rush of forces ; an evolution toward greater 
activities and higher Judgment ; the growth of a 
stability which shall be evermore unstable." This 
essay should be read by every pessimist. Another 
publication from the presses of this progressive 
publishing house is a collection of essays written 
by Gelett Burgess under the title, "The Romance 
of the Commonplace." The book has about 160 
pages and sells for $1.60 net. This production is 
•omewhat of a guide for those in the ordinary 
spheres of life and is especially adapted for those 
to middle life to awaken in them a spirit of en- 
thusiasm and hope. It dwells upon the romance 
and delights of every-day living. "The Baby 
Boland Series" of child-life pictures is an original 
and artistic booklet for the home and highly in- 
teresting to all who are lovers of children. The 
first number of the series is entitled, "Vespers," 
and is a cunningly pretty piece of illustration 
work. The simplicity and l>eauty of babyhood 
Is pleasingly set forth. The second embraces 
the characteristic ambition of the youngster 

to climb and each picture as the leaves 
are turned portrays a type of childish joy 
which can be seen in the life of every 
healthy, reliant baby. Elder & Shepard 
are noted for their branching out into novelties 
and up-to-date features and a most unique sur- 
prise is the book entitled, "A Cynic's Calendar of 
Revised Wisdom," with three signatures, Oliver 
Herford, Ethel Watts Mumford and Adionn Mls- 
ner. These three have put their heads together 
and twisted all the hackneyed proverbs of the 
past and set them out in a new and startling 
dress. Here are two, "Necessity is the mother oi 
contention," and "Those who came to cough re- 
main to spray." This booklet is bound in bright 
colored shirtings with a design of cats on the 
cover. The authors have made a number of Il- 
lustrations which appear in the book. It is a cal- 
endar for 1903. One illustration represents a fool 
with a pen in his hand, and beneath is the legend. 
"The quill is as mighty off the wing." It would 
make a good diary for some person to use in keep- 
ing a record of social, "dates" and memorable 
"proposals and refusals." It sells for 75c net 

As the acme of gall and presumption and at the 
same time a new and preposterous phase of 
commercial methods, the Roycroft Shop certainly 
takes the prize. They are sending out their pro- 
ductions to expected patrons with tbe advice on a 
printed slip along with the same stating that 
the price is so much, and if not desired it may t>e 
returned. The enterprise of Elbert Hubbard is 
no doubt worthy, but it is shocking to say the 

The newspaperman, today, who is a succeas, 
must combine mechanical genius of neatness and 
order with brains and energy. The paper must 
be well and carefully edited and it must be clear- 
ly and attractively sent out to its patrons. The 
best appearing papers of the northwest to reach 
the desk of the editor of THE COAST and which 
come the nearest to being successful as regards 
influence and moneymaklng are : The Daily 
Times, Seattle : the Freedom, Manila, P. I. ; The 
Spokesman-Review, Spokane, Wash. ; The Dally 
Chronicle, Spokane, Wash. ; The Evening Herald, 
Everett, Wash. ; The Reveille, Whatcom, Wash. ; 
The Daily Record-Miner, Juneau, Alaska ; The 
Evening News, Carson City, Nev. : The Evening 
Record, Everett, Wash. ; The Mail and Herald, 
Seattle: ?The Argus, Seattle; The Gazette, 
Colfax, Wash. ; The Herald, North Yakima, 
Wash. ; The Reveille, Butte, Mont. : The 
Free Press, Elko, Nev. ; The State Journal, 
Ogden. Utah ; The Standard, Olympia, Wash. ; 
The Journal, South Bend, Wash. ; The Times, 
Ritzville, Wash. ; The Republican, Wentchee, 
Wash. ; The Journal, Ilwaco, Wash. ; The Regis- 
ter, Ballard, Wash. ; The Record, Prosser, Wash. ; 
The Times, Sedro-Wolley, Wash. ; The Union, Bal- 
lard. Wash. ; The Courier, Sedro-Wooley, Wash. ; 
The Journal, Kent, Wash. ; The Times, Sprague, 
Wash. ; The Citizen, Harrington, Wash. ; The 
News, Creston, Wash. 


Conducted for and bf the subscribers of 9f7C COtSt, 
<n tbe fntoro St s of iciest ern Literature artd titit^^ 

« 1 1 1 « I 

• MM 

« M • < • t t 

-•.•.•.'.♦•' •.•.'.•.•♦.',•.•.••.•.•. ♦.•>•.• •.» V'.» ♦.'.» M t M • i' 

lv«»MAn/< • 


While out one day the Wild Rose heard 

A painful liitle cry 
And stooping, found a blade of grass 

Had pierced the Daisy's eye. 

And bending down to dress the wound, 

And hush the crying up, 
I grieve to tell she slipped and fell, 

And broke the Buttercup. 

While weeping there. Jonquil came up, 
"Come, take a walk," said he. 

She raised her head and proudly said, 
"Yes, you may walk with me.^' 

Not very far along their way 

They met the Dandelion ; 
He winked his eye as they passed by, 

Jon looked as hard as iron. 

Just then they saw the poor Cowslip. 

"Do speak a word," Rose said, 
"Of sympathy and charity," 

Jon shook his yellow head. 

The Bluebell then began to ring. 

They could no longer roam, 
And being late. Jon and his mate 

Each Rhododendron home. 

*Twa8 almost dark when they returned 

But I could see them yet, 
And as they parted for the night, 

I sa.w that Tulips met. 

Coupeville, Washington. 


The following questions have been sent in 
from various members to be answered by sub- 
scribers Interested in this department. Answers 
should be concise, direct and not to exceed a hun- 
dred words. The best answer will be published in 
the next number. Address replies to 

Editor the Coast Literary and Art Club, 

The Coast, Seattle, Wash. 

Query 1. — Who is presumed to be the first 
writer in the world? 

Query 2. — What Is your opinion of the Bacon- 
Shakespeare controversy? 

Query 3. — Who wrote the oldest public docu- 
ment known to history? 

Query 4. — What should constitute a truly lit- 
erary production ? 

Query 5. — Who was the first person to become 
famous in literature In the State of Washington 
and when did his first production appear? 

Query 6. — Is It proper from an ethical point 
of view for a writer to engage for a specific sum 
to produce articles on a given subject and treat 
them with a coloring and deduction which he be- 
lieves is not borne out by the facts in the case? 

Query 7. — Is It true that great writers are 
always poor, and If so. why? 

Query 8.- -Should a parody be classed as a 
literary production? 

Query 9. — Where did the Idea originate that all 
poets are Insane? Do you believe that such Is the 
case? What is poetry? 

Query 10. — Is dialect-writing a perversion or a 
reversion of literary merit? Are there any clas- 
sics written in dialect? 

Query 11. — What Is the best way to tell if a 
person has real literary ability? 

Query 12. — Are the newspapers the proper 
mediums from which to Judge of the best litera- 
ture of the present time? 

Query 13. — What constitutes a great artist? 

Query 14. — What good does it do for a person 
to go to the schools of higher learning and study 
the dead languages? 

Query 15. — Are there any schools of art in the 
State of Washington? 

Query 16. — Is the painting of nude figures or 
the sculpture of naked statues conducive of high 
moral tendencies? 

Query 17. — Should photography be classed as 
an art? 

Query 18. — Is printing an art or a business? 

Query 10. — What makes a painting valuable? 

Query 20. — Should the B^ble be. classed as a 
literary production? 


Thos. McAllister, Sprague, Wash. ; Niels Soren 
sen. South Bend, Wash. : Miss Birdie Beals, Bl 
lensburg. Wash. ; J. F. Owens, Bphrata, Wash. 
P. F. Billings, Ephrata, Wash. ; Frank Maulsby 
Ephrata, Wash. ; J. Lloyd Aldwell, Falrhaven 
Wash. ; Hon. John D. Atkinson, Olympia, W^ash. 
E. N. Tunin, Olympia, Wash. ; Jeffn. F. Moser 
U. S. S. Pensacola, San Francisco, Cal. ; G. G 
Evans, Ritzville, Wash. ; L. R. Williamson, Ilwaco 
Wash. ; W. D. Wlnsbip, Ilwaco, Wash. ; J. W. How 
erton, Ilwaco, Wash. ; J. R. Goulter, Ilwaco 
Wash. ; B. O. Reed, Bay Center, Wash. ; L. H 
Rhoades, Bay Center, Wash. ; W. M. Grelnier. Bay 
Center, Wash. ; C. W. Geiger, Chehalis, Wash. 
II. J. Miller, Chehalis, Wash.; W. M. Urquahrt 
Chehalis, Wash. ; Geo. Dysart, Centralla, Wash. 
H. W. B. Hewen, South Bend, Wash. ; T. M. Gunn 
South Bend, Wash. : Dr. T. S. Kennedy, South 
Bend, Wash. ; Wm. H. Gudgel, South Bend, Wash. 
Oren C. Wilson, South Bend, Wash. ; J. L. Myers 
South Bend, Wash. ; O. Rund, Watervllle, Wash. 
R. A. Rohrback, South Bend, Wash. ; A. W. Clyde 
South Bend, Wash. ; B. G. Preston. Watervllle 
Wash. ; J. F. Bmerlck, Watervllle, Wash. ; O. P 
Hyde, Watervllle, Wash.; M. S. Holland, Water 
ville. Wash. ; P. J. Frlesinger, Watervllle, Wash. 
Col. J. Buchanan, Watervllle, Wash. ; M. B. Mai 
loy, Watervllle, Wash. ; Roswell T. Lord, Water 
ville. Wash. ; R. S. Steiner, Watervllle, Wash. 
A. Guibert, Watervllle, Wash. ; H. B. Creel, Water 
ville, Wash. ; Frank Crowell, 120 Riverside Drive 
New York City ; Preston Ashe, Cascade Locks 
Ore. ; J. A. Moorehead. Nahcotta, Wash. ; C. K 
Stohl, Wenatchee, Wash. ; E. M. Campbell, Fern 
dale. Wash. ; Mrs. K. Copenspire, Titusville, Pa. 
B Kremmel, St Paul, Minn. ; W. R. Marion, Bay 
Center, Wash. ; M. A. I^nghorne, Chehalis, Wash. 
Mrs. J. S. Mitchell, Chehalis, Wash. 




Joseph Blethen, the popular and well known 
writer who has pleased many readers by his 
bright and delectable stories, has had an Elliot 
Bay story entitled, "l*he Proving of the Prodi- 
gal/' accepted by the Saturday Bvening Post. 
Another story of Mr. Blethen's will appear in 
the January number of Success. This tale Is en- 
titled, "Peadee's Toothpicks," and has local col- 
oring. Much interest is being manifested in Mr. 
Blethen's Pd stories. The idea of the signature 
'Td" arose from the suggestion of the manner in 
which a prominent lumberman of Minneapolis 
signed his name. The original was Mr. Peavey 
and wrote his sign in an abbreviated way, **I^." 
in his writings Mr. Blethen is always scholarly 
and clean and has won the hearts of a host of ad- 
mirers by the direct and pleasing manner in which 
he rounds out his plots, having in all of his writ- 
ings a high ideal and pure purpose. 

Edgar L. Hampton, the editor of Seattle's bright 
and successful weekly, the Mail and Herald, has 
Jnst had a story entitled, *'A Measure of Wheat," 
accepted by the Saturday Evening Post. In this 
story Mr. Hampton has brought into literature 
the wheat fields of Oregon and from a literary 
standpoint is especially happy in portraying the 
country life in the Willamette Valley. We tender 
our congratulations to Mr. Hampton in his initial 
production which has gained him admission into 
the coterie of recognized writers of the Northwest. 

Miss Mabel E. Abbott, a talented and ambitious 
young writer residing in Seattle, has just sold a 
story to Frank A. Munsey and makes her debut 
into literary circles with a story which will find 
a hearty reception among her host of admiring 
friends. She is an estimable young lady and 
merits the recognition she has gained for the 
productions of her pen. 

W. S. Phillips, of Seattle, has just closed a con- 
tract with the sportsmen's favorite magazine, 
"Recreation," whereby his services have been 
retained as editor for a department in that 
periodical labeled, "The Pacific Slope." 


The frontentier for Volume Five of The Coast 
is the work of the talented young artist, Claude 
B. Evermann, who has taken up a residence in 
Seattle. He is one of the charter members of 
the Coast Literary and Art Club, and takes an 
ictive interest in the progress and development 
of art culture and study in the Northwest. We 
make this mention because of the merit and ex- 
cellence of his work. 

During the coming year stories and sketches 
from the pen of John E. McDonald, the popular 
and delightful writer, will appear in The Coast. 
Mr. McDonald was at one time a resident on 
Pnget Sound, and all of his writings have an es- 
pecial interest to residents of the Northwest. 

The Springfield Republican, the moeft literary 
in tone of any of the great American Journals, 
continues on the even tenor of its way, undis- 
turbed by the flamboyant, brass-band methods of 
its yellow contemporaries. The Republican is 
the model of all right-minded Journalists who 
respect good writing and temperate opinions upon 

statecraft and ethics. No other New . England 
journal presents New England news so attract* 
ively ; its editorial opinions, though often es- 
pousing the unpopular side, are always logical ; 
while its literary reviews present in an emi- 
nently readable and luminous way the best dicta 
of criticism. 

The Christmas number of The Commonwealth, 
twenty-four pages and cover, was among the hand- 
somest. There were several full pages of copper 
plates, and an analysis of Jacob Furth, after the 
style of William Allen White, written by Leonard 
Fowler, the editor, was the feature. The best 
portion of the entire paper, however, was that 
given to a financial review of the various banking 
statements. The cover was excellent. 

SEND FOR ^ ^ ^ 




TwcntjT-Fivc Cents 

306 Bailey Bldg. ^ ^ SEATTLE 

Home Study fi8h''''coL^8T 

for Writers ^*''° Thorough 

AUr W ritcrd4«« course in all 

branches of English composition for general 
students and professional writers. Instruc- 
tion in Journalism, story writing, verse, all 
classes of literary composition. Practical 
help for literary beginners. How to write 
correctly. English grammar made plain. 
Punctuation and construction of sentences. 
For Circulars Address: School of English 
Composition, care THE EDITOR, Frank- 
lin, O. 


Send for a Copy 

j» Post Free .*» 

48 J -483 The Arcade, SEATTLE 

Please Mention The Coast. 

Monthly . 

.Third Avenue Theatre 


Week CommeDclDK SaDda^t Oec. 26 — 

Week CommenclDg Jao 4 — 

WMh CnnimeDclDS Ian- 11 — 

Week CommeDclag Jan. IB — 

Week Commencing Jan. 2S — 


Cor. Third Ave. and Madison St. 
Phone Miin 667 
Prices: — 20c, 80c, 40c. 60c. 

Monthly Announcement 

Seattle Theatre 

J. P. HOWE, Manager 


WHb fifty people In tbe lateat comic operas 
"1402,"' ■■Tbe Gtcl from Parla," ■■Loat, Strayed oi 
Stolen," '■San Toy," and otherB. 

Cor. Third Are. and Cherry. Pbone, Main 43 

Popular Prices. 

Every issue of THE COAST is 
a Souvenir Edition. Send it to 
vour friends in the East. 

Seattle, Everett and Edmonds Route 


Tbe Pine, Palatial Pataenger EipreM Steamer. 
Leave Seattle T a 

m.. 2 :S0 p. m., T :ie p. m. 


Athlon. Inland Flytr. 

unlT paasenger ateamship Un« to 
tbe Puget Sound Naval Station. 

Columbia Dock. SEATTLE. 

Leads tbem all 

McLaren a Thompson, 

Seattle, Wash. Principals, 

Tell saTertlaen yoo ■ 

* their adv. In Tbb Coist. 

▼ AAVK«»iKKc caiuon 

^ I Number Ti^o 



1 i 

i 1 




i i 






Out wliere tile waves rolled great and wild 

Rode father, rou and I; 
The storm In rage and fury piled 

The whlte-eappecl billows high: — 
Our boat was Btrong; we labored long. 

And now upon the shore 
Our craft Is stranded on the sand 

And we are sale once more: — 
Your father sleeps — fatigued Is he; 
I pray you will you hark to me? 

While high the ocean billows rolled 

And hard beat wind and rain, 
'Twas you that made my spirit bold, 

My heart its hope retain; 
'Twa? you that made my soul reply 
With strength to save when death drew nigh 

I love you with my entire soul; 

My spirit yearns for thee; 
My heart I place in your control; 

Win you accept ol me? 
Make haste — you love as well as 1 — 
Do not delay — reply — reply. 


Oh, come! And on life's deep we'll go; 

Our boat will safely ride — 
Tho' storms may come and winds may blow. 

No danger can betide — 
Be quick, before he wakes reply — 
Tell me, "Aye, Aye!" Say now, "Aye. Aye!" 

CopyrlBht, 100;;, by Honor L. Wllli«lra. 



Harold Preston, of Seattle 

The senatorial fight in the State of Wash- 
ington has at last simmered down to a fight 
for principle, howsoever good or bad that 
principle may be. In the past it has been 
the man — one section against another — one 
set of fellows against another, but the pres- 
ent campaign is one of pure principle. This 
has been brought about chiefly through the 
candidacy of Harold Preston, of Seattle. As 
a man, Mr. Preston is not wealthy; nor is 
he a brilliant orator, with a large coterie 
of admirers waiting upon his words; nor 
is he a man with the backing of large and 
powerful trusts and moneyed interests — he 
is simply an honest and fearless man of the 
people. He has taken up a fight against 
railroad domination of political affairs in 
the state where he resides. It is the asser- 
tion of the body of men with whom he is 
associated that the railroads have not been 
paying their Just taxes in the years gone 
by; that by maintaining a large and power- 
ful lobby at the state capitol during the 
session of each legislature, laws favorable 
to the railroads have been passed and that 
laws unfavorable to them have been killed; 
that men associated with the railroads have 
been elected to public office in the federal 
government and to the honorable position of 
United States senator; that the interests of 
the people have been thereby allowed to 
suffer and the condition of public affairs 
permitted to fall into a deplorable condi- 
tion. To remedy this state of affairs a rail- 
road commission has been thought to be 
the proper thing and by and through the 
efforts of these men a plank was inserted 
into the state platform of their party pledg- 
ing the support of that party to the estab- 
lishment of a railroad commission. 

During the last legislature of which Mr. 
Preston was a member a bill was introduced 
in the senate authorizing the institution of 
a railroad commission. This bill was cham- 
pioned by Mr. Preston, but through lack of 
support failed of passage. In the state con- 
vention it was under the leadership of Mr. 
Preston that the plank was inserted in the 
state platform and from that time he has 
stood for the candidacy of the United States 
senate, not as Harold Preston, but as the 
anti-railroad candidate, the man who stands 

for the establishment of a railroad commis- 

As a man, Mr. Preston is earnest, hard 
working, persevering, determined and in no 
wise a "quitter." He has entered the con- 
test for the senatorship and will remain 'in 
the fight to the end. He was bom in Rock- 
ford, Illinois, in 1858. His early education 
was gained at Grinnell College, Grinnell, 
Iowa. He completed his studies at Cornell 
University. Leaving college he began clerk- 
ing in a store, and after several years of 
service in the employ of different firms, took 
up tne study of law and was admitted to the 
bar in 1883 at Newton, Iowa. In the au- 
tumn of 1883 he located in Seattle, where 
he has since resided. In February, 1888, 
he wedded Miss Augusta Morgenstern, of 
Seattle, and has a family of two children— 
Theresa, aged fourteen, and Frank, aged 

In the world of politics, Mr. Preston be- 
longs to those classed as the new men, yet 
he shows a sagacity and wisdom equal to 
that of many of the old war horses. 

One peculiar exigency in the contest is 
the fact that in his fight for the position 
which he seeks, Mr. Preston is staunchly 
supported by the leading Democratic news- 
papers of the state and among the residents 
of Seattle he has the good will and bes* 
wishes of all. 

Mr. Preston does not equivocate, but 
8tand3 upon the state platform of his party 
with firmness and frankness, and, be he 
elected or defeated, there will be no taint 
of dishonor or treachery attached to his 

Associated with Mr. Preston in his sena- 
torial fight is the present governor of the 
state, Henry McBride, of Mt. Vernon, who 
is the champion of the railroad commission 
bill. It is asserted that if the commission 
bill passes, Harold Preston will be tne next 
senator for the State of Washington, and, 
if it does not, well — it is hard to tell who 

Mr. Preston's opponents are Levi Ank- 
eney, of Walla Walla, a bankei*, and John 
L. Wilson, of Spokane. ex-United States 
senator and newspaper man. men of influ- 
ence and prominence. 



The Turning of the Worm 

By Agnes Deans Cameron, Victoria, British Columbia. 

"The laugh went against me tonight, Gil- 
bert, but by all my mother's Scotch ances- 
tors and by that cursed trick that makes me 
stammer when I'm angry, I'll square ac- 
counts with Lowry before the week ends." 

There was no stammer now in Max Bar- 
ham's even tones, and Irwin saw that he 
was in grim earnest. "All right, chappie, I 
hope you do — it was rather caddish of Law- 
ry — but, really, the fellow is such a dab hand 
at it, that when he starts to mimic he always 
has the whole house with him — your stutter 
and Livingstone's lisp are his star hits. Miss 
Rankin tried hard to remain neutral, but 
when he lays himself out to be funny, Lawry 
is irresistible. There's no denying of it, 

Barham bit his under lip, tossed his mane, 
straightened his shoulders, and retorted, 
"He's a cad, and I rather more than half 
believe a coward at heart. Mark my words, 
Gilbert, I'll have that man's abject apology 
before the week's out." 

The two parted, nothing more was said, 
and with all outward signs of peace, the 
"paying guests'" of Pleasanton seemed to be 
pursuing the even tenor of their way. 

But Max had formed a plan of revenge; 
it came to him as an inspiration Tuesday 
night, it seemed good next morning, and 
all Wednesday did he roll it as a sweet mor- 
sel under his tongue, and work out the de- 
tails. Lawry nor no man should make a 
butt of him and go scatheless — especially 
while the brown eyes of Gladys Rankin 
danced appreciation of the fun. 

Mrs. Dundonald, the hostess, prided her- 
self on gathering into the inner circle of 
her select and most private boarding-house 
only bright and clever people. The ladies 
she passed verdict on herself, and it was 
tacitly understood that no new man should 
be taken into the fold until pronounced 
"possible" by a jury of his peers — so was the 
modern Eden kept select. 

Happy and harmonious had the family 
been until the advent of another Eve ush- 
ered unrest into Paradise. Gladys Rankin 
was spending the summer vacation with her 
sister, Mrs. Dundonald, and already had she 
half the swains at her feet and (metaphor- 
ically, of course) at each other's throats. 

Wednesday's moon rose clear and round 

and silvery; it was a peerless night, and 
two at least of the boarders of Pleasanton 
felt its witchery. 

Tonight Fortune favored Max Barham. 
Leaving the others inside, Gladys and he 
had wandered to the veranda, where through 
the windows the steady "ping," "pong," 
"fifteen, love," "deuce," "vantage," told that 
the rank and file of Pleasanton was estab- 
lished for the night. 

*Will you walk to the lake?" Max asked; 
and Gladys, waiting only to throw over her 
shoulders a fleecy, filmy fascinator of red. 

Max trod upon air; the night was clear 
and silent, there came from the pines a 
warm, pungent, resinous smell that was in- 
toxicating, and, although little was said, 
he felt with an exultant thrill Gladys re- 
sponsive to his humor. Then conversation 
turned to the subject of physical courage. 
"A woman will forgive a man every crime in 
the decalogue if he prove but brave and 
courteous," Gladys had said; "every woman's 
man is big and brave and tender." 

Gladys was thinking of an athlete brother, 
to whom she had been bom the delicate twin, 
but Barham, rejoicing in his inches, squared 
his big shoulders and thought of Lawry's 
slight figure, thought also with a start of sat- 
isfaction that this was the night of his re- 
venge. He would square accounts with 
Lawry tonight, and tomorrow he would, yes, 
he would tell Gladys that she held his life's 
happiness in her hand — such a little hand 
as he watched it in the moonlight caressing 
the blue-gray ears of Kruger, the Great Dane, 
who, fully conscious that this was no ordi- 
nary night, had constituted himself Propri- 
ety to this little party of three. 

Max was so happy in anticipation that he 
felt he could afford to be magnanimous, and 
he actually beamed on Lawry, who, meeting 
them in the hallway on their return, stepped 
forward to hand Gladys a letter, and inci- 
dentally to relieve her of her wra^) and in- 
vite her to witness the semi-finals in the 
ping-pong tournament. "You know, Miss 
Rankin, you promised to present the trophy, 
and we are all waiting;" and then, over his 
shoulder, "the booby goes to you, Barham, 
by default." 

At two o'clock the last light was out. 



Pleasanton was shrouded in silence, and its 
tired inhabitants slept. Barham had taken 
Gilbert into his confidence: 'ru frighten 
Lawry out of his cursed state of everlast- 
ing self-satisfaction. He was a coward at 
school; he has dodged danger ever since. 
I'll appear before him masked and order him 
out of bed, and force the fellow to hand me 
over his valuables. Gad! I can hear him 
whine already. After he has crawled round 
sufficiently and asked me to spare his precious 
life, ru give him the satisfaction of seeing 
his highwayman at close quarters and hand 
him over my meerschaum-case pistol. It 
will be worth a quarter's salary to hear him 
drop his deuced drawl and come down off his 
high perch." 

Gilbert had laughingly agreed that Lawry 
was getting a little too high and mighty, 
and that since Miss Rankin had smiled on 
him he had become well-nigh insufTerable. 
"Take the fellow down a peg and you'll be 
doing a public service. Go in and win, Max. 
Keep a phonographic record of his plead- 
ings; they'll act as a mild corrective to be 
unbottled when needed." 

Max had carefully planned each detail; 
on the south side of the building a con- 
venient fire escape led up past Lawry's win- 
dow; he would make his entry from the out- 

So, as the city clock chimed the half hour, 
out into the moonlight stepped a typical 
highwayman, his light brown covert coat 
showing plain against the wall, as brushing 
aside the Virginia creeper rung by rung, 
he swung himself up with quick, swinging 
steps. The lower part of his face was hid 
by the collar of his coat, and a black silk 
scarf bound around the head and punctured 
with eye-holes completely covered the upper 

"Four stories up and three windows to the 
east, and I go in without knocking," and Max 
gave an inward chuckle. The window was 
five or six inches open at the top, and silence 
reigned within. 

"Believes in fresh air, the beggar; never 
would have suspected him of such dainty 
taste in curtains; and a Turkish carpet, by 
Jove I Why he's as luxurious as a lady. 
It's a shame to disturb those infant slum- 
bers, but your time has come, Dh High and 
Mightiness, and It's my pleasing duty to ad- 
minister your medicine. Gad! Inspiration 
number two! If he doesn't apologize abject- 
ly and quickly enough and dance obediently 
to my piping, I'll become a mother to him 
and chastise him where he lies. Make game 
of me before a table-full, would you, to 
show off your tom-fool talent — well, it's a 

long worm that has no turning," and lower- 
ing the sash with an agile swing, he dropped 
inside. The electric light from the street 
corner struck across the room diagonally, 
cutting it into a light and a dark triangle; 
it took the intruder a minute or two to accus* 
tom his eyes to the changed play of light 
and shade. Yes, there in the far corner was 
the occupied bed; there was a moment of 
pure joy and exultation and the man from 
outside exclaimed with the Psalmist, "Thou 
hast given my enemy into my hands!" 

And then came the shock. Barham's big 
frame shook like an aspen and he stepped 
back tottering towards the window. What 
was that filmy red thing fiung so carelessly 
over a chair-back? It wasn't, it couldn't be; 
but yes, It was but a few hours before that 
Gladys had worn it in the moonlight; and 
as half choking he gasped for breath, Max 
inhaled once more that subtly suggestive, 
that altogether indefinable perfume that 
seemed a part of Gladys* very personality. 
Great heavens! What had he done? In 
his insane hurry he had turned to the east 
after reaching the third instead of the fourth 
story, and this was Gladys' room! ! ! 

For one awful moment his heart refused 
to beat, and then he thought of the open 
window — but it was not to be. 

"Stand back from the window, please, and 
I'm very sorry to trouble you, but, throw up 
your other hand!" The voice was that of 
Mrs. Dundonald, and (what a nerve the 
woman had!) her accents came as cool and 
gently persuasive as if she were saying, 
"Pass the butter, please." Max looked down 
a shiny barrel twinkling in the moonlight 
and deemed it sensible to obey. "Stand right 
out in the light, please, one more step to the 
left; there, that will do. And now I have a 
fancy to see my burglar — you know I never 
caught a real live one before — might I ask 
you to remove that unsightly silk mask; it's 
not in the least becoming — Why," inarticu- 
late with excitement, "Mr. Max Bar — ham!" 
And then freezingly, and with frigid dignity, 
"Will you kindly explain the situation, sir? 
Mr. Dundonald is in the city, and I am shar- 
ing my sister's room tonight," and the eyes 
of the intruder, half dazzled by the glint of 
that menacing revolver, became for the first 
time conscious of a second figure in the 
background, her fair, fiuffy hair just dimly 
discernible on the pillow. 

Explain the situation! How could he? 
What was there for him to say? Was ever 
mortal man, by his own cursed folly, since 
the world began, in such a situation? "Well," 
resumed his tormentor, and her tones were 
even and cold like sweet icing, "have you 



nothing to say, Mr. Barham, before Gladys 
rings the ihessenger alarm?" 

And then Max gulped hard and all limp 
and clammy and crestfallen, made a clean 
breast of it. It was hard to tell; his plan, 
as he now, acutely conscious of the silent 
part of his audience, delivered it up at the 
sword's point in shame-faced sections, 
seemed bombastic and silly and puerile. 
And, as he stammered out his apologies, 
Max realized that for the second time he cut 
a very pitiful figure in Miss Rankin*s eyes. 
"A woman will forgive a man every crime 
in the decalogue if he be but brave and cour- 
ageous," Gladys had said, and poor Max, ar- 
raigned before that silent tribunal, felt his 
utter unworthiness. 

"Mrs. Dundonald," he concluded in an ago- 
ny of remorse, "you will see, you must see 
that it is all a ghastly mistake; I am a gen- 
tleman.? "I had thought you one. Mr. Bar- 
ham," was the chilly rejoinder, "and now 
go, please, by the window, as you came." 

It isn't often that a man thoroughly and 
altogether hates himself, but Max reached 
the ground with that thought uppermost in 
a brain of conflicting and bitter emotions. 
Like a man in a dream he strode to the lake- 
side, dragged the boat from her mooring and 
jumping in, began to row towards the far 
end with feverish strength. It must have 
been for an hour that he pulled thus a quick, 
hard stroke as for life or death, and then, ex- 
hausted, resting on the oars, step by step 
and word for word,, he went over the whole 
humiliating scene. He cursed Lawry and he 
cursed himself worse; he reviled his own 
asinine folly, and when he thought of his 
intrusion into that shrine, Max got hot to 
the finger tips. "What a beastly cad, wha* 
an utter, utter ass I must appear to her," 
and he hid his face in his hands and 

Pulling back to the boathouse in the gray 
dawn. Max had come to the conclusion that 
he would take a six months' tour in Europe. 
"I can never look her in the face again; the 
whole atmosphere of Pleasanton has become 

unbearable; I'll make my arrangements to- 
day," and striding across to the Hotel Lan- 
caster, he ordered a room, had a cold. plunge 
and a shave, and feeling slightly less like a 
felon, took an early car to the city. Aston- 
ishing the people at the office with his early 
arrival, Barham plunged into work with such 
ferocity that his typewriter and the Junior 
clerks looked knowingly at one another and 
hazarded guesses about his personal affairs. 
"Bad case of Jilted, I bet a nickel." said the 
office boy, and there were no takers. And 
then, five Ininutes later, "Gentleman to see 
you sir," and dainty and smiling, with an 
orchid in his buttonhole and his usual band- 
box air stepped into the room Lawry, the 
last person that Max Barham wanted to see 
that morning. 

"Why didn't you turn up at breakfast, old 
man? The ladies are awfully anxious about 
you ; think you must have been kidnapped or 
something. Miss Gladys will be especially 
relieved when I assure her of your safety; 
and by the way, Barham," with the obnox- 
ious drawl, "here's a bit of your millinery," 
handing over the black silk scarf, "that you 
left in my room last night. Why didn't you 
tell me you were going to call? You know. I 
enjoyed our tete-a-tete immensely. I don't 
think I ever saw a fellow in a bluer funk, 
and," with a laugh, "how ingenuously you 
confessed your designs on my humble self. I 
confess you nearly stumped me, when you 
were so handsomely doing the self-abnega- 
tion act. 'Mrs. Dundonald, it's all a ghastly 
mistake' ' (what a mimic the inquisitor was) 
" I'm a gentleman! 'Oh. ye Gods. Barham. you 
know you didn't look the least bit like one. 
What a Joke to toll Gladys when I return 
her shawl." and stopping to light his cigar, 
with a smile that kindled murder in the 
other man's heart, Lawry lifted his silk 
hat with a bow of mock deference and was 

In the turmoil of Barham's brain there -waa 
but one thought uppermost — "Was it Gilbert 
who had delivered him up, bound hand and 
foot, to his enemy?" 


Down through the forest of doubt there came 

The breezes of "yes" and **nc :" 
When the fluttering leaves turned 'round In shame 

They knew tho* they said not so : 
But the trees, when the storm came up, bent low- 

Because the positive winds did blow : 
Then after the rain, when the sun came out. 

There was no longer a forest of doubt. 
For the leaves, the twigs and the trees well knevi 

And acknowledged the stormy winds that blew. 

—January 14. 1003 

Photo bg Leo Hetxcl, Port Angtte; Wath. 



Watcrville and Douglas County 

Douglas County is that county of the 
State of Washington around which the Co- 
lumbia River makes its big bend from which 
a wide and fertile section of the state re- 
ceives the name, "The Big Bend Wheat 
Country." It is located in the geographi- 
cal center of the state, has an area of 4,500 
square miles and contains a population ex- 
ceeding 5,000. From the banks of the Co- 
lumbia River, which encloses over one- 
third of the county's area, high bluffs rise, 
which are scaled through steep and stony 
canyons, and back from which extend a 
plateau of comparatively level country, 
which has an elevation of from 1,000 to 
2,500 feet. The country is especially adapt- 
ed to grazing and wheat raising and during 
the past few years much attention has been 
given to fruit culture and the raising of all 
kinds of cereals and vegetables of the tem- 
perate zone. The climate is mild and the 
natural rainfall sufficient to mature crops 
without irrigation. However, in the low- 
lands and along the narrow valley of the 
Columbia irrigation has added much to the 
productiveness of the soil and the diversifi- 
cation of the crops. The main line of the 
Great Northern Railroad passes through the 
southern part of the county and provides 
excellent shipping facilities, all the river 
districts shipping their products down the 
Columbia River to W^natchee. The North- 
ern Pacific Railroad has a line from Spo- 
kane to Coulee City and at the present 
time are constructing a cut-off from Coulee 
City to Adrian. An electric railroad for 
passengers and freight is also in contempla- 
tion from Waterville to a point on the Co- 
lumbia River near Entiat. 

Douglas County was organized in 1883 and 
Okanogan, six miles southeast of Waterville, 
was selected as the countyseat by the legis- 
lature. A great deal of rivalry was experi- 
enced during elections which followed to 
select a permanent location. At the first 
much stress was laid upon the fact of having 
water in sufficient quantity, and after they 
had tried to obtain water at Okanogan, but 
were compelled to haul it in to the place 
during the period of deliberations when the 
subject of a change was being discussed J. 
M. Snow took a keg of water from the loca- 
tion where the present county seat is and 
presented the name of Waterville for their 

consideration. In 1887 the county seat was 
moved to Waterville, where it has since 

The first settlements in Douglas County 
were made at Hartline by a number of peo- 
ple from California, which was denominated 
"the California Settlement." and at Badger 
Mountain, in the vicinity of Waterville, 
which was called "the Badger Mountain Set- 
tlement." Among the pioneers we notice 
the names of Richard Corbaley, H. N. Wil- 
cox, James Kincaid, Major E. D. Nash. C. E. 
Rogers, A. L. Rogers, M. B. Howe, Al. Pier- 
pont, Oscar Redfield, Eldef J. E. Fitch, A. T. 
Greene, John Bannock, George Knuber, Da- 
vid Titchenal, S. C. Robbins, R. S. Steiner, 
William Anderson. Peter Bracken, F. W. 
McCann, Frank Davis, John Henry Smith, 
James Heathman, Andrew Flynn, Frank 
Rusho, Anthony Rusho, E. O. Whitney, Wil- 
liam Scully and P. J. Young. 

Piatt M. Corbaley, who came to this local- 
ity and settled at the foot of Badger Moun- 
Uin in March, 1883, is accredited with be- 
ing the first settler in the county and the 
first white man to take up land west of the 
Moses Coulee. O. Rund plowed the first fur- 
row in the county in 1883. Elder Corbaley, 
father of Piatt M. Corbaley, married the first 
couple in the western Big Bend country. 
The parties were Jesse Wallace and Jessie 
Soper, and were made man and wife in 
1884. He also preached the first funeral 
sermon in this district, which was for Thom- 
as Jordan, the first sheriff of the county. 
In the month of May, 1884, he preached the 
first discourse in this part of the state. 

The preaching of the Gospel in those early 
days was about as much of a trial as it was 
a pleasure, yet it had its interesting fea- 
tures. It is told of Elder Corbaley that on 
one occasion a couple came to him to be 
joined in marriage and after the ceremony 
the groom asked him what were his charges. 
"Well," the preacher is recorded to have 
said, "the law allows me $2.50." "That Is 
not enough," the fellow is said to have re- 
joined, I think it ought to be at least $3.00." 
Then he gave the parson fifty cents. On 
another occasion, after the Elder had per- 
formed the ceremony, which had made a 
wild and ferocious westerner a husband, 
the fellow, in an undertone, asked him what 
were "the damages." "Oh," the Elder re- 



plied. "I never make any cbarge; I always 
leave It to the pride ot the man who has 
been married; he can make It as much as 
he pleases, Just as he values the loved one 
whom he has gained." The Elder says he 
shrunk somewhat wheu the fellow gave bim 

The first county officials who were appoint- 
ed by the legislative enactment were H. A. 
Myers. CapL A. W. Adams and P. M. Cor- 
batey, commissioners, who met at Okano- 
gan, February 28, 1884; B. L. Martin, audi- 
tor; Peter Bracken, treasurer; Thomas Jor- 
dan, sberltl; Walter Mann, probate Judge; 
John E. Winn, assessor; 0. Rund, surveyor, 
and Eva Brown, superintendent of schools. 
It Is a matter of history that when Mr. 
Bamhart was treasurer of the county he 
kept the treasurer's books In a patent medi- 
cine memorandum book, which be carried 
around In his pocket. This was the method 

treacherouB snow. That winter, although 
the settlers had plenty of money, tbey did 
not have facilities to get out and get in 
the right kind at grub and the supplies 
came down at last to nothing but flour. 
Then It was that woman's Ingenuity was 
taxed to Its limit to devise a varied menu. 
In the extremity the Rusho girls came out 
best and, as Mr. McCann puts it, "devised 
a 'patent gravy' which was ttie delight of 
ail the young men of the neighborhood — 
It was flour browned and cooked to a proper 
consistency with water." 

Watervllle, the largest town In tbe county 
and the present countyseat, was laid out 
in 1886 by the government, to which Mr. 
A. T. Greene donated his squatter's rights. 
It was originally a government townsite, 
and entered by Judge Snow. October 6, 1886. 
It was flrst known as "Jumpers' Flats." 
Upon the discovery of water in unfailing 

In 1885 when W. H. Anderson took tbe of- 
tk;e of treasurer. 

On February 13, 1887. when Joseph Magee 
and Almlra Rusho were made man and wife, 
a very heavy snowfall was experienced, and 
as the license did not reach them In time 
tor the ceremony, the great occasion had 
to t>e put oH two days and then the marriage 
feast, as it had been previously prepared, 
was enjoyed. It was then Jokingly reported 
that "an old maid of seventeen summers" 
had "Just got married" after a long wait. 
Frank Day, Justice of the peace, performed 
the famous ceremony. 

F. W. McCann relates that In the early 
days the transportation matter was a large 
problem and that one winter the whole 
country was severely anowlMund. This was 
In the winter of 1883-4, when tbe ground 
was covered by eighteen inches of a soft. 

quantity It was named Watervllle. The first! 
store was opened here by Isaac Newhouse 
In 1887. The first building was a black- 
smith shop, put up by E. E. Stowell. Prior 
to this time. In 1885, a postoQlce had been 
secured at this place which went by the 
name of Badger PostofBce, of which P. M. 
Corbaley was the first postmaster. The first 
store in this part of the county was estat)- 
llshed in 1883. three miles distant from 
where Watervllle now Is located and was 
run by Bracken & Kimball. The flrst hotel 
was started by a Mr. Allender and called 
"The Big Bend Hotel," Elder J. E. Fitch 
married the first couple in Watervllle and 
also preached tiie first discourse in the place. 
The first school teacher was C. C. Ladd, who 
taught in 1885. 

When the countyseat was moved from 
Okanogan to Watervllle in 18S7. the place 



grew rapidly and business at once assumed 
lively proportions. In 1889, A. T. Greene 
built and gave the county its present com- 
modious and attractive courthouse. L. E. 
Kellogg, in 1888, established the first news- 
paper, 'The Big Bend Empire/' which is 
now edited and published by J. O. Tuttle, 
the present postmaster. Jerry Newman 
started 'The Emigrant'* in 1890 and soon 
stopped. "The Douglas County Democrat" 
was started by Dr. J. B. Smith in 1891 and 
ran until 1894. The "Waterville Index" 
opened up its fireworks in 1892 and shot 
words of wisdom and advise at the people 
until 1893, with John James Graves at the 
gun. In 1894 "The Big Bend Empire" ab- 
sorbed the Democrat. Last year W. S. 
Trimble and J. E. Jacobson started "The 
Douglas County Press" and are taking good 
care of the Democratic sheep in the county. 

March 7, 1889, the place incorporated with 
the following board of trustees: A. T. 
Greene, chairman; C. M. Stephens, clerk; 
S. W. Phillips, W. F. Allender and L. B. 
Kellogg. In 1891 an electric light system 
and a waterworks plant was established 
here through the backing of Seattle capi- 
talists, through the instrumentality of Prof. 
E. Meany, among whom were W. R. Ballard, 
Hon. John H. McGraw and the firm of Craw- 
ford & Conover. The present city board 
consists of Frank Corbaley, mayor; F. A. 
Lockwood, clerk; J. L. Kelly, treasurer; 
Adam Thompson, marshal, and M. B. Howe, 
A. L. Maltbie, W. H. Knemeyer, C. A. Granis 
and A. Guibert, councilmen. 

W. H. Knemeyer tells that in the early 
days he settled on Foster Creek and was 
the only settler in that part of the county. 
His wife was the second white woman in 
this part of the state. In those times the 
Indians were numerous and many a time 
would stop at his house when he was away 
from home and ask for something to eat. 
They never molested anybody, however. He 
says their modest request would always 
be "Nica ticka muckamuck." (I want some- 
thing to eat.) He adds, "And they always 
got it." 

The public schools at Waterville are 
among the best in the state, and in addi- 
tion to the regular organization a high 
school is maintained through the union of 
the five adjoining districts. The schools 
are under the direction of E. F. Elliot, super- 
intendent, who is assisted by Arthur Bar- 
ton. Victoria Hruska in the high school and 
by O. D. Porter, L. Grace Grosvenor, Min- 
nie Townsend, Carolyn Macintosh and Etta 
Moore in the lower grades. The union 
board is composed of the chairmen of the 
local boards and includes A. T. Greene, Dr. 
J. M. Cooper, S. C. Robins, Frank Alexander 

and Charles Brenesholtz. The local board 
comprises J. M. Cooper, M. B. Howe and I. 
Matthews. The high school has an enroll- 
ment of 38 and the rest of the school 250. 

C. I. Helm, a cattleman, who resides at 
Priest Rapids, on the Columbia River, says 
that in 1870 he passed through this county 
and after leaving the Yakima River at Ya- 
kima City, he saw no settlements nor set- 
tlers until he reached the British Columbia 
line. Those were the days of the cattle 
king, and among other incidents he relates 
how, on one occasion, Ben. E. Snipes, a fore- 
man for Jim Allen, was taking a herd of 
cattle across the country when he lost a 
bunch one night. Leaving the remainder 
of the herd in the charge of the boys who 
were with him. Snipes started off after 
thenL In a few days he came up to the 
missing cattle and found them in the pos* 
session of three Indians. When he was dis* 
covered by the redskins he was at once 
commanded to state what he wanted. When 
he replied that he came for the bunch of 
cattle which they had and which were his 
employer's, the Indians drew a bead on him 
and taking charge of his pony dragged him 
to the ground and forcibly took off his 
clothing. Then they sat him on a lean, 
wind-broken cayuse and headed him back 
towards the place from which he had just 
come. The Indians escaped and it is said 
that Snipes never went out alone after any 
more cattle after that. 

Last year Waterville and vicinity raised 
and shipped out over 800,000 bushels of 
wheat and 200,000 bushels of oats and bar- 
ley. A flouring mill is in operation at 
Bridgeport on the Columbia River. Seven 
miles from Waterville A. L. Coleman oper- 
ates a fruit dryer, with a capacity of 2,650 
pounds of fruit daily. At the last Trl- 
State F^ir held at Spokane, an exhibit 
which was gotten up from the products of 
Douglas County by G. A. Yancy-Williams 
Company, of Waterville, was considered one 
of the best in the exhibition hall. First 
premiums were accorded their wheat, feed 
oats, milling oats, feed barley, white beans, 
colored beans and late potatoes, and second 
prizes were accorded their general display 
of green fruit, spring wheat and late pota- 

Waterville has stage connections with 
Coulee City and other outlying points In 
the county, but the easiest and best route 
is via Orondo (Riverview P. O.), between 
which place and Waterville Col. John Bu- 
chanan, a native-born Kentuckian, from 
Paris, Kentucky, operates a first-class stage 
line, known as "The Blue Grass * Stage 
Line." The Colonel says that there is not 
much kicking on the service save by some 



unreasonable cusses who will insist upon 
objecting 16 walking up the canyon in rainy 
and muddy weather and upon carrying rails 
on their shoulders with which to pry out 
the stage when it sticks in a deep rut-hole. 

Orondo, the shipping point for Waterville, 
the postofflce designation of which is River- 
view, is the landing place for the boats 
from Wenatchee, between which places two 
competing lines of river boats operate. The 
mail boat is "the Gerome/' of which Bruce 
Griggs is skipper. With him in the busi- 
ness are his brothers. Jay and Clifford. The 
other line Is the North Star Transportation 
Ck»mpany. Last year over 350,000 bushels 
of wheat and a large amount of fruit raised 
in the valley surrounding, were shipped 
from this place. At a point up the river 
a tramway has been inaugurated whereby 
the wheat is carried from the plateau above 
to the river level and then put on board 
the boats. 

Douglas County is one of the richest coun- 

ties in the state, offering opportunities for 
development and advancement in lines of 
agricultural and farming pursuit and when 
the contemplated railroad and shipping facil- 
ities have been completed will offer advan- 
tages enjoyed by few sections of the grow- 
ing and prosperous State of Washington. 
Already the people living within its con- 
fines are well-to-do and in the best financial 
circumstances, and only the added facilities 
of modern conveniences for shipping their 
numerous and varied products are needed 
to make the country blossom, grow and 
thrive like the fabled regions of the Nile. 
The soil is rich and productive; the people 
are energetic and progressive and the local- 
ity is comparatively new and undeveloped. 
The business and commercial interests 
stand substantially and solidly upon the 
slow and sure growth of permanent ad- 
vancement. It has a bright and attractive 


Were not thy happy smiles and laughing eyes 

My pleasure and my sweet delight. 
My fond ambitions when I would despise 

And hope's bright day would end In night. 

Love's dreams are glidng softly through my mind : 
They please but do not please as much 

As thoughts of thee which in my heart I find 
With longings for thy tender touch. 

The last warm kiss I felt upon my cheek. 

When last I drew thee to my breast. 
Bums deep my heart and soul goes out to seek 

Thy soul in love's entrancing rest. 

E^rth fades, earth darkens as in midnight storm 

If when I seek I find thee not ; 
My love to live must feel thy lovellght warm ; 

Hence in unrest I seek thee out. 

Life could not be were not thy heart and soul 

In sweet communion near to mine ; 
Despair I know not ; hope Is fair and whole 

When my soul labors on with thine. 

Oh, fairest love, 'tis not thy beauty's charms ; 

But thy heart breathing love to me 
That leads my soul to nestle In thy arms 

And draws my heart to dwell with thee. 

So, tossing on life's ocean billows high, 

I sing my song in praise of thee ; 
And when alone my senses wildly cry, 

••Without thy love life could not be." 

—Sept. 1, 1901. 



A Romance of Two Wars 

By Henry Bubns Gebr. 

It was early in the morning. The moisture 
of the night dropped from the tree boughs, 
while the dewdrops hung like great gems of 
sparkling light to the grasses and the grain. 
The mists lingered in the lowlands, and hov- 
ered about the trunks of the forest trees. 
Only the twittering of the Southern feathered 
songsters — a prelude to the gush of song that 
should come later — the lowing of a cow and 
the crowing of the barn-yard king; these 
were the only sounds — nature's sounds — that 
broke the stillness of the morning, and be- 
tokened the coming of the king of day, the 
giver of life. 

But, what is that to the westward? Out 
there, by the edge of the forest, beyond the 
rail fence and the cotton field, the grey of the 
morning has taken on a lighter tinge; it 
has something of the blueness of the sky; 
and, as the sun peeps over the treetops to the 
eastward, and the early morning rays strike 
into the vapors, long lines of flashing bayon- 
ets are revealed. And then, as the mists rise 
in the morning breeze, and the atmosphere 
clears the more clearly defined is the blue. A 
banner held aloft is the banner of the Union 
forces — the stars and stripes. 

A Federal army is advancing and taking 
position in the cotton field — is massing be- 
hind the rail fence. 

Down past the lawn and the house is the 
old orchard. Beyond it for several hundred 
yards there is an open waste-field, and be- 
yond that the mighty forest again, with the 
main pike leading through it to the nearest 
village postofiice. Down that way the grey is 
not all of the morning mists, for there it is in 
motion, and advancing in long straight lines 
from the forest to the orchard. It, too, re- 
veals the glint of gun-barrels in the morning 
sunlight, and, on closer inspection, it is seen 
that the grey is, in part at least, the grey of 
uniformed men. It is a Confederate army 
getting into an offensive, as well as a defens- 
ive position. 

An hour — two hours pass; hours of dread- 
ful, heart-breaking, spirit-crushing suspense 
to the nonlcombatants In the old Southern 
home. The manoeuvering, the light skirmish 

firing — as the contending forces strive for 
advantage of position — the preliminary 
charging and counter-charging; and then 
comes the awful crash and carnage of battle. 

The Confederate army falls back slowly — 
sullenly — contesting every foot of the 
ground. And, when the eastern forest is 
reached again, a stand is made. The heavier 
pieces of artillery are run out, and the fire 
and shell that they belch forth check the 
advancing Federal forces at the lower edge 
of the orchard. To attempt to cross the in- 
tervening open space means certain de- 
struction. A recall is sounded, and the great 
army in blue masses in the orchard and to 
the westward. , 

Presently the blessed emblem of peace — 
a fiag of truce — is raised at the front of the 
Confederate lines, and several men bearing it 
aloft, advance into the open. A similar ban- 
ner is raised at the front of the Union lines, 
and a squad is detached to meet the advanc- 
ing Confederates half way. Surrender is 
not discussed; simply an armistice to bury 
the dead, and to gather in the wounded of 
both sides. It is agreed upon, and then the 
work of mercy, following so soon after the 
frightful confiict — in which brother com- 
batted brother, is begun. 

Towards its close, a very tragic — a touch- 
ing scene — is enacted in the old mansion 
home nearby. Within its gates — behind 
its threshold — a very old lady, a young girl, 
and a number of frightened, cowering negro 
slaves, are the unwilling witnesses of the 
events transpiring. 

The girl, one of the brightest and sweet- 
est buds of Southern womanhood, is con- 
fronted by a rough, irresponsible looking 
camp-follower of the Northern army; who, 
with a leering look, has just addressed her 
in an offensively familiar manner, when — 
suddenly the door is thrown open, and a 
young lieutenant of the the Union forces 
springs into the room. With an exclama- 
tion of anger he strikes the brute with the 
flat of his sword, and turning to his men at 
the door, orders them to arrest the offender, 
and take him to the guard-house, which is 



quickly done. Then turning to the elderly 
lady, he says: 

"I am detailed, madam, by the command- 
er of the Union forces, to place a guard about 
your real den ce, and I regret exceedingly 
that I did not arrive In time to save yoii 
from this humiliating loault from the ruffi- 
ans who are following our army for the sake 
of pillage." 

The lady saw that be was a gentleman, 
and her heart went out to him In sincere 
gratitude. He was young, not more than 
twenty-one years, tall, llght-halred, thin and 
pale. When abe thought of bis calling and 
bow far from home and mother he doubtleaaly 
was. she felt very 
hlndly toward hlra. 
Indeed. But, before 
she had time to say 
anything, he con- 

•■We would have 

been bere sooner, but 

for this poor fellow, 

whom we picked up 

by the fence up yon- 
der. He Is severely 

wounded, and begged 

us not to leave him 

to die — the rescuing 

squads having all 

been called In. He 

alao asked us to 

bring bim bere." 
When he ceased 

speaking, four boys 

In blue entered the 

door, bearing on a 

stretcher a llfeleaa 

form In grey, which 

they deposited gent- 
ly on the floor. Then ^ 
there was a scene: 

"Oh! Robert, Robert!" cried tbe elderly 
woman, as the young girl threw herself on 
the floor beside the stretcher, kissing tr.e 
silent lips, and calling their possessor en- 
dearing names. 

The young Federal lieutenant stood silent- 
ly by, with suprlse and compassion depicted 
in his expression. Presently tbe lady tum-^d 

"Oh! sir," she cried; "You have brought 
me my son. whom I have not seen tor two 
years; I forgive you the cruelty of your 
a.rms, and I tbank you very much for the 
kindneas and rourtesy of the act." 

He bowed, and turning to one of his men. 

"Go for a surgeon immediately." Then, 
to tbe lady he continued: 

"I am greatly pleased to have been of 
service to you, but the character of this lat- 
ter mission fills me with sadness." 

And then the Union boya withdrew — leav- 
ing a guard about tbe old home, which was 
known to tbe Federal commander to be that 
of a Confederate general. 

Three days later. Mrs. Ralston— the elder- 
ly lady mentioned — learned from one of the 
Federal guards, that the young lieutenant 
was sick, having been stricken with (ever, 
and was then at tbe rudely constructed field 
hospital. This Information caused her much 
concern, for the young Northerner bad 
touched her heart. So deeply was she 
moved, that she sent 
to the commander 
of the Federal forces 
a request that the 
sick boy should be 
brought to her house 
that she might nurse 
him, together with 
her son, the young 
Confederate lieuten- 
ant, who was slowly 
recovering from his 
wounds, though, of 

be < 

. vlr- 

. tually a prisoner. 
The Federal com- 
mander sent one ot 

his officers to see her, 

and being assured of 

the lady's sincerity 

and good Intentions, 

he sent the suffering 

Union boy to her. 

She put him on a 

separate cot In the 

same room with her 

"^ son Robert; and then 

the two soldier boys — the one in grey, and 

the other In blue, had great times during 

their convalescence, up there In the big airy 

bedroom, with Miss Sallie Burton, the young 

girl previously mentioned, who was the 

ward of Mrs. Ralston— the daughter ot a 

deceased friend of her earlier days — flitting 

bacK and forth, waiting on them unceasingly 

and meet impartially. 

The Confederate army had retreated to 
the Southward the night after the battle; 
and It was reported that within a week the 
Northern forces would march to the ooitth- 
east. When Mrs. Ralston heard thi-. she 
was much disturbed. The youne Pe-ieral 
lieutenant In her care, and her son were both 
too 111 to be moved. Her husband v'a~ an 
officer, high up in the Confederate "P'-vlce: 
and, when a Federal staff offli-er railed to 



see her before recalling the guard from 
about her residence, and to take action in 
regard to the two brave young spirits she 
was caring for so zealously, she proposed to 
him an exchange before their complete re- 
covery. She assured him, on her honor, as 
the wife of a Confederate officer, that she 
would send the young Union soldier to the 
Federal ranks as soon as he should be able 
to travel and to take the field again, and 
that she would take the very best care of 
him until that time should come. In ex- 
change, she asked that her Doy might re- 
sume his service in the Southern cause, 
when able. 

The Union officer laughed at her very 
novel proposition, but assented to it; and the 
next day the Federal forces disappeared. 

Three days later a squad of Confederate 
cavalry drew up in front of the Ralston 
home. They entered the premises, and 
searched the house, and when they came 
across the young Federal's blue uniform 
hanging near his cot, one of them turned 
on him fiercely, and drew his sword: 

In an instant. Robert Ralston — pale and 
weak as he then was, grasped the loaded 
musket that stood at the head of his bed, 
and leveling it at the Confederate, shouted: 

"The man is my prisoner — put up your 

The soldier turned to him, laughing 
coarsely : 

"You look like a scare-crow young fel- 
ler, but I see you wear the grey, and I 
reckon you are game. Tell us what this 
yankee is doing here in Confederate ter- 

To this sally Robert made no reply, for 
the Confederate commander had arrived, 
and Mrs. Ralston was then busily engaged 
in explaining the situation to him in full. 
He ordered his men from the house imme- 
diately, and expressed much sympathey for 
the two sick and disabled soldier boys. He 
readily consented to respect the lady's com- 
pact with the Federal officer, as to the ex- 
change of the two. and added the hope that 
they would be able to rejoin their respective 
commands at an early date. And then he 
withdrew with his men; and the old home 
was disturbed no more, as the tide of war 
surged farther and farther southward. 

Ten days later the two convalescent sol- 
dier boys "broke camp" pronounced cured, 
and in fighting trim, by their loving nurse 
and benefactress — the one going to rejoin 
Sherman, and the other Gordon. 

Pretty, gentle Sal lie Burton — she of the 
soft, sweet voice and loving heart, — ^had 
been equally kind to both, but her heart 

went with the one that wore the grey — the 
one that would continue in the fight for her 
beloved Southland. 

Mrs. Ralston wept and prayed; prayed for 
peace, that the unnatural strife should cease. 
The burden weighed heavily on her frail 
and aged shoulders; anu, before the peace 
for which she had so earnestly prayed had 
finally come to bless the land and a re-unl- 
tea people, she had entered into the eternal 
rest — the everlasting peace. 

Robert Ralston surrendered with Lee's 
forces at Appomattox, a colonel then, and 
returned to the old home; where, welding 
his sword into a pruning hook, he took up 
the burden of his shattered fortune and 
went manfully to work to rebuild the waste 
places. And then he sought out the love 
of his youth — sweet Sallie Burton — sought 
her in the city, where she was then living 
with a relative — and declared anew his love 
for her. He needed her help, her gracious 
womanly presence, her kindly advice and 
counsel, and above all. the strength and en- 
couragement of her enduring and cheering 
love, to aid and uphold him in the battle 
against the great odds then combatting him. 
So, they were married, and together they 
took up the burden of life at the old home, 
— out there by the great forest, the cotton 
field, and the orchard — ^to them a sacred 
place, that had been purified by fire and 

They often spoke of Lieutenant FYank 
Kent, the young Federal officer, who had 
shared with Robert the comforts of the 
great spare bed-room, and the devoted care 
and attention of two self-sacrificing South- 
ern women. But Lieutenant Kent had disap- 
peared from the horizon of their acquaint- 
ance — swept on by the engulfing tide of war. 
Several years later they heard that he was 
married, and living in the far West. 

A generation has passed since the events 
above recorded transpired, and Coloned Rob- 
ert Ralston, with his graceful wife, and 
their beautiful daughter, Ethel — ^than whom 
a fairer, sweeter, daughter of the South 
never graced a banquet hall or a ballroom 
floor, have come to Chattanooga to attend 
the reception there given in honor of the 
soldier boys returning from Cuba; who are 
encamped at the outskirts of the historic 
battlefields of Chackamauga, just prior to 
their honorable discharge from the service. 

The Reed house is filled with the Invited 
guests and the soldiery. The great ban- 
quet has been cleared, and the chivalry of 
the South and the North, — the soldier boys 
who responded to the call of their country 



to do battle with the Dons, are enjoying the 
mazes of the waltz with the beautiful daugh- 
ters of the South as partners. 

It is a glorious occasion; a spectacle that 
no other nation of the earth has ever seen; 
the sons and daughters of the men who 
wore the grey, and the men who wore the 
blue — ^men who were erstwhile enemies — 
happy now in their reunited country, in the 
romances ana the loves now weaving and 
yearning in the bosoms of the brave and the 
fair ones now celebrating a second peace, 
and additional glory to American arms and 
patriotism, — the devotion and sacrifice of 
her women. 

Ethel Ralston is dancing with a tall, fair 
biOnde from the far Northwest. Her mother 
and father smile approvingly from their 
seat in a secluded corner. When the music 
stops, fair Elthel, with a justifiable pride in 
her handsome partner, on whom she has be- 
stowed more than the usual quota of her 
sweetest smiles, leads him over to where the 
colonel and his wife are sitting. They rise 
as the young people approach: 

"My father, Colonel Ralston; Lieutenant 
Kent. And my mamma?" she added gra- 
ciously and simply, as she presented the 
young stalwart to the old Southern gentle- 
man, and the kindly-featured, silver-haired 

Colonel Ralston's features paled visibly, 
and the hand that he put forth trembled 
perceptibly: The same eyes and hair — the 
same smile and expression! 

"Why. sir," he exclaimed, "I have seen 
you before, sir. It was during the war 



'Oh, no. Papa," said his wife:. "You are 
thinking of Lieutenant Frank Kent, who 
was with us at the time of the battle of 
Nashville — this yoimg man is not " 

"Lieutenant Frank Kent!" cried the 
younger gentleman. "That was my father's 
name, and his rank at the time he partici- 
pated in that battle. He was stricken with 
fever shortly afterwards, and was nursed by 
a sweet old Southern lady, and her daugh- 
ter, I've heard him tell. And there was a 
wounded Confederate boy there, too." 

"My dear young man," fairly shouted the 
colonel,' grasping the surprised lieutenant 
by the shoulders, and drawing him to him. 
"I was the wounded Confederate, and your 
father saved my life. This is too much! 
too much!" and the strong frame of the 
old Southern veteran shook with emotion. 

Mra Ralston was calmer. She took the 
hand of the young soldier between her own, 
and smiled at him through her tears, as she 
said quietly: 

"And, my dear Mr. Kent, I am the girl, 

now grown old, who helped to nurse your 
dear father back to life and strength." 

The young man was greatly affected. 

"My father is dead now, he died nearly 
ten years ago." he said, brokenly; while 
sweet Ethel, prompted by the fiood of tender 
sentiment about her, threw her arms around 
her mother's neck and wept. 

With an effort the colonel recovered his 
composure and customary dignity. 

"This is the most pleasing incident of 
my life, sir," he said to the young lieutenant 
"I loved your father, sir; I love his mem- 
ory, and words fail me in expressing the 
great pleasure it affords me to meet his 
son. You must visit us, you must not fail 
to do so. Lieutenant Kent, at our home 
•Confederate Corner,' near Nashville. Noth- 
ing could afford us more pleasure." 

"Indeed, Mr. Kent," added Mrs. Ralston, 
"we shall expect you as soon as you are 
;nu8tered out." 

"Your kindness overwhelms me," the 
young man replied, in low, emotional tones; 
"I siiall be pleased to enjoy your generous 
hospitality at the earliest possible moment." 

A few weeks later, Frank Kent slept be- 
neath the Ralston roof. The visit was a 
long one — much longer than he had antici- 
pated. The great kindness of the parents, 
the grace and sweetness of the daughter, 
added new charms to the beauty of life for 

A second visit the following winter, and 
a third when the flowers had come again — 
the early spring flowers, when the apple 
blossoms down in the old orchard swayed 
in the soft Southern breeze, — the grasses 
were fresh and tender, and the mists gath- 
ered, as they had gathered in the early 
morning so many years ago; to reveal as 
they rise under the warm, uplifting influ- 
ence of the sun's rays — not the glint of 
gun-barrels and the flash of the swords and 
bayonets, but a fair land smiling in peace 
and plenty. And, down yonder, where the 
mighty guns were once planted, a young 
man is speaking earnestly to a young wom- 

"Yes, Ethel, I am a Westerner, the son of 
a real 'Yankee,' — do you love me?" 

"Mamma and papa both love you, 

"But they are married. I want some one 
to love me who is not. I want a fair 'Rebel' 
for a wife — I want you, darling." 

And then, somehow, the dark tresses, and 
the blond locks came dangerously close to- 
gether; and a pair of sweet, dark eyes — 
Southern eyes — looked up trustfully and 
lovingly into the strong, brave face of the 


son of the North, as a soft, rich voice mur- The next month two happy young Amerl- 

inured: cans took up the burden of life together, 

"This Is iny Appomattox, dearest; 'tis In the far Northwest. 
your San Juan." Nashville, Tennessee. 


I study I he hero's picture. 

A face deep marked with care, 
Yel sirong tor the wveresl Btrletnre 

H'hile 1 think o>t the hero's »to 
Of a life beeun sn low. 

Wound on in ebb and flow, 
And bis charity knew an equal. 

He ftave from his henrt to mei 
While tj ua Is the llTlDg seigiiel 

Ot glfta thai live again. 

Hare hniled In elad nci'lal 
For he bravely did his duty. 
In rellevlnn his brnlhera ne 

In a life uf undying deeds. 


Tif ™rrH Of niKL sears 





Synopsis of Pbiob Chapters. 

Chapter I. — The Early History of the Scratcher 
Family. Chapter II. — In the Home of Wilson 
E. Cload — Accident Making Little Lizzie a Crip- 
ple for Life — Death of Mr. Cloud — Collection of 
Insurance Policies — Mrs. Cloud's Intimate Rela- 
tions with Mr. Scroggs, Attorney. Chapter III. — 
In the Law Office of Scroggs & Bluff — The 
Settlement of the Matterson Case Against Dick 
Scratcher — Dick Beginning the Study of Law in 
the Office of Scroggs & Bluff. Chapter IV. — The 
Wages of Sin — Blanche Matterson Deserted by 
Dick Scratcher — Blanche Goes East to Michigan. 
Chapter V. — Dick Scratcher Studies Law with 
Scroggs & Bluff — His Uncle Giyes Him Charge of 
His Timber Land — The Letter from Blanche. 
Chapter VI. — The Story of the Find of Gold in 
Klondyke — Scroggs & Bluff, with Dick, Organize 
**The Klondyke Company" — ^The Rush North — Seat- 
tle Booms. Chapter VI. — The People Coming to 
Seattle — The Trip of Michael Sears to Seattle 
and His Meeting Blanche — The Anxiety of Dick 
after He Had Gotten His Uncle to Sign a Note 
for 120,000 Instead of a Contract — Michael Sears 
Takes Desk Room with Scroggs & Bluff. Chapter 
VIII. — Blanche at Home with Her Parents — The 
Answer to Blanche's Letter — Mother Matterson, 
"My Blanchie. he Is fooling you ; Dick is only 
fooling" — "Mother, I love him, for all the pain he 
caused me." Chapter IX. — Mr. Matterson's de- 
scription of the Seattle Fire. Chapter X. — Some 
Characteristic Happenings in the Home of Dick 
Scratcher — The Plot to Have Michael Sears 
Drugged in a Variety Theatre. Chapter XI. — 
Beginning of Michael Sears' Church Relations in 
Seattle — -Description of a Seattle Gambling 
House. Chapter XII. — Pen-picture of an Old- 
Time Variety Theatre In Seattle — The Drugging 
of Michael Sears — The Mighty Power. Chapter 
XIII.— Endeavor to entrap Blanche. Michael Sears 
elected S. S. Supt. XIV. — Michael Sears meets 
Ruth Tlldon. XV.— The Noie Case. XVI.— A 
small amount of fruitbearing. XVII. — Michael 
Sears Is given a room at Mrs. Cloud's house. The 
rush of Blanche to commit suicide. The voice of 
the Mighty Power. XVIII — The pathway of love. 
Description Mt. Rainier. XIX — Concerning the 
practice of law. Blanche Matterson working In a 
restaurant. XX — Mrs. Cloud allows Michael Sears 
to remain at her home. Mrs. Cloud tries to keep 
.Michael from the church fair. Will it be Mrs. 
Cloud or Ruth Tlldon who marries Michael SearH? 



WTien Michael Sears arrived at the church, 
they were waiting for him to come. U 
had been arranged for him to have charge 
of the program and an impatient committee 
of women greeted him with, "Well, now! 
We're glad you're here at last! We thought 
you'd never arrive! Isn't Ruth Tlldon go- 

ing to be here to sing? We depended, sure, 
upon you to bring her!" and very fortunate 
for him, at that moment, to end the one- 
sided discussion^ Miss Tildon entered the 

*'I am very sorry," explained Mr. Sears to 
Miss Tildon, going up to her at once, "that 
I was unable to get out to your house, as I 
had promised you; but I was detained on 
business and just could not get away on 
time. I only arrived here this minute!" 

"Well," she answered half defiantly, "I'll 
forgive you this time, Mr. Sears; but the 

next 1 won't promise you about the 

next! But mamma came down with me, so 
it's all right now!" when she requested him, 
"Mr. Sears, I wish you would begin soon: 
mamma can't stay out late, so I must get 
through to start home early!" 

This social was the first general gathering 
of any consequence which had occurred in 
the church since Mr. Sears had been superin- 
tendent, and with the large Sabbath-school 
room now crowded and Jammed full of live- 
ly, excited people, as toastmaster, Michael 
Sears entered into the evening's festivities 
with all the ardor and vim of youth to make 
it a perfect success as far as he was con- 
cerned. His little opening excuse for the 
gathering was a gem of wit and humor. In 
calling off each number on the program he 
did it in a way that kept the audience in the 
very best kind of feeling. When he intro- 
duced Miss Tildon. severa" of her Sabbath 
school scholars sitting on the front row of 
seats, tittered as he spoke of her and called 
her "our sweet-voiced nightingale, Miss 
Ruth," having forgotten to put on the "Til- 

He capped the climax, however, and receiv- 
ed a thunderous, deafening round of ap- 
plause when, at the completion of the pro- 
gram, he announced, "This completes the 
happy feast of pleasure for the mind. 
Now, my good friends, the ladies, the lovely, 
charming ladies, await the men with longing 

This Btory began In the September number. 



hearts and, in anticipation of the fatigue at- 
tending the exercise of the mental faculties, 
have prepared a sweet and dainty lunch of 
home-made cake and church-made coffee 
with which to regale yourselves and fill you 
full, that the social hour to now ensue be 
made convivial and enthusiastic. So, you old 
men and young men, men with hairs and 
men without, men with wives and men un- 
caught, seek a fair one. some one else's 
wife, perhaps; then, take a lunch upon your 
laps, eat, drink and talk; enjoy the hour, 
as well as lieth in your powerl" 

During the babel of talk and confusion 
which followed, each one pressed forward to 
be introduced to the toastmaster and shake 
the hand of the jolly superintendent. Little 
did they surmise or think before that even- 
ing, that the sober-faced and solemn-looking 
fellow, Michael Sears, had so much fun in 
him. But, seeing Ruth Tildon and her moth- 
er putting on their wraps in preparation for 
leaving, he hastened to where they were and 
left with them. 

"Won't you come in and stay a little while, 
before you go back? " asked Mrs. Tildon 
at the door when they reached the Tildon 
mansion, her tone of voice betraying that 
she anticipated his coming in, as she added, 
"It is early yet — only a little after nine!" 

"Thank you," replied Mr. Sears, stepping 
in as Ruth held the door. "I shall be de- 

"That was the best social we ever had in 
that church!" remarked Mrs. Tildon, whilo 
Miss Ruth was lighting the parlor lights and 
taking off her wraps, "It was too bad that 
we took you away so soon!" adding when 
her daughter returned through the hall 
doorway, "You will please excuse me — I feel 
so fatigued after the evening's excitement. 
Good night!" and she withdrew. 

Alone with Rutb Tildon! Flushed with 
the buoyancy of youth! Keyed in high pitch 
by the pleasure and excitement of the even- 
ing! -Such the condition of the emotions of 
his heart as Michael Sears sat down in a 
sea of soft yielding pillows in the presence 
of his loved one. The clouds of the early 
evening, which had appeared upon her face, 
were gone. Her eyes were bright with a 
hearts delight. Her disposition was aflame 
with admiration for the one who was with 
her. Her countenance was aglow with a 
soul's esteem. A gentle blush upon her 
cheek told of a rising, bubbling emotion 
which arose within her breast and welled up 
for utterance. Her bosom was swelling with 
an Inward unmentionable presence which 
words cannot describe. Her whole being was 
enveloped in an existence which pen cannot 
portray. Thrilled and overwhelmed with a 

power which carried her on its mysterious 
and unseen pathway, she was led to the 
piano and — why, or for that reason, knew 
not, nor realized — was impelled to sing a 
song. Her spirit fluttered with the words 
which arose from her lips and her soul rang 
out its melody in the notes of the music. 

Thou knowest not my heart, my love ; 

The secret lives with me ; 
My soul in perfect bliss would move, 

If it could live with thee; 
Then days would fly in sweet delight ; 
When thou art nigh there is no night: — 

Oh love ! For thee my heart is sighing ; 

Sweet love! For thee my soul In crying; 
O ! Come to me, my own to be — 
My heart in love has gone to thee. 

My lips can only sing of love 

That swells my heart for thee ; 
My soul has placed no hope above 

The hope — thou lovest me ; 
Thy face I greet with hearty cheer; 
My life is sweet when thou art near : — 

Oh love ! For thee my spirit's feeling ; 

Sweet love ! To thee my soul is stealing ; 
O ! Come to me ; I long for thee ; 
My life, my joy come thou and be. 

If thou wert mine, my loveliest, 

Hopes blissful joys would be; 
Then I could sink to happy rest 

And fondly cling to thee ; 
My heart, my soul in life divine — 
In love's control — would dwell with thine : — 

Oh love ! For thee my soul is singing ; 

Sweet love ! To me thy Joys be bringing ; 
O ! Come to me ; I wait for thee ; 
My precious treasure come and be. 

As Ruth Tildon, with her sweet voice and 
overflowing heart, sang, Michael Sears, 
drawn by the impulse of a longing, loving 
heart, arose from the midst of the downy 
pillows and in the arms of emotion upon the 
wings of desire moved over to her side. 
Then, when the last note came and the last 
word was uttered, he looked Into her face 
with a burning and flaming gaze. In uncon- 
trollable madness he grasped her hand and 
In a quivering voice, tremulous with feel- 
ing, said, 

"Ruth, forgive me for saying so; but, I 
love you! I cannot help but love you! 
Ruth! Ruth! Will you, my precious treas- 
ure come and be?" and he pressed her soft, 
shapely hand and threw his arms around her, 
breathing out the words into her ear, "I love 

In a dream of enchantment she felt him 
kiss her hand; In a dim vision she realized 
that he was caressing her forehead, and she 
whispered In a choking voice, "And I love, 
too!" when in a close embrace they held each 
other while joy and delight encompassed 



them with the rapture and the presence of 
the peace of love, such as is only experienced 
when the contest is over and the victory 

"And you are mine, all mine, with your 
great, deep love?" he whispered. 

"Yes," she replied. 

"And you will marry me and make the 
life and joy of my home?" 


"And we will dwell in bliss and joy to- 


When Michael Sears returned to his room 
that night, he lived in a different world than 
when he had a few hours before left it. His 
heart was filled with a perfect joy. His soul 
was ringing with an angelic chorus, the 
beautiful anthem of hope and praise. His 
whole being was thrilling with a boundless 
and glorious pleasure. His thoughts were 
sweet music and his mind was echoing with 
life's grandest song. 

As Ruth Til don lay her head upon the 
pillow that night she dwelt in an existence 
of fairest, fondest hopes and joys, where she 
beheld the blessed beauties and fondled the 
precious possessions of a pure soul's para- 

"Mother!" said she, going into her moth- 
er's room before retiring, "Mother, dear, I 
am so happy, tonight! Mr. Sears and I have 
become engaged!" 

"But, daughter! You don't know anything 
about him!" replied her mother. 

"I love him, mother! And he loves me! 
That is all right, isn't it?" she asked. 

"Yes, darling, that is enough!" was the 
answer, as the mother's eyes filled with tears 
and she kissed her daughter, her only daugh- 
ter with a "God bless you." 

The next day Mr. Sears served the papers 
on Dick Scratcher in suit upon the note of 

his sister, Mrs. Cloud. "By !" exclaimed 

Dick, in a rage, as he did so, "you will never 
get a cent on that! And you mark my 

"Well, Dick," he cooly replied, "I am only 
doing my duty as your sister's lawyer." 

After Michael Sears had opened a small 
office by himself, the Stone family, rather 
than go to the expense of another trial about 
Dick Scratcher's note, proposed to pay the 
boy 15,000.00 in property and |1,000.00 in 
cash, each side to pay their own costs in- 
curred in the trial when the jury disagreed. 
Mr. Bluff advised Dick to ask them four 
thousand dollars more in cash and, if they 
agreed to it, to accept the amount in settle- 
ment. The cash offer was increased to 
$3 500.00. after continued offers and refusals. 

and a settlement arranged and consummated 
upon that basis. When Dick was through 
paying out money he had left as his share of 
the transaction |4,000.00 in property and 
fl,500.00 in cash. 

As soon as Michael Sears had learned of 
the settlement of the note case, he sought 
Mr. Amos Matterson, who called out from his 
shoeshop to Blanche, who was sitting in the 
other room, 

"Come here, Blanche!" 

"Well, father?" said she. 

"Mr. Sears is here. Dick Scratcher has re- 
ceived about ten thousand dollars from his 
uncle's estate. I want you to bring suit 
against him for breach of promise; Mr. 
Sears will draw up the papers." 

"But, father," the girl hesitated, "I don't 
like to! No. father! I don't want to do 

"My child!" the father then exclaimed, 
"Will you let all the pain, the suffering, the 
degradation, the humility he has cast upon 
you go unavenged?" 

"But, father, it is all past now! And it 
will be so cruel to live it all over again! Let 
it drop." 

"Let it drop! Daughter! As your parent, 
I insist that you bring him to justice!" 

"I cannot, father! As I live, I cannot! 
God will punish him, not I." 

"Then you refuse to do so?" 

"Oh, dear father! Don't tempt me! I can- 

"Then! I will sue him as your parent. 
When he wronged you, you were not of age; 
when he cursed you and reviled you, you 
were still a minor and under my care. I 
canot let it pass. I will be avenged. I will 
have the law on him. Draw the papers up 
at once, Mr. Sears. I will sign them my- 
self; I will sue him!" 

"Oh, papa dear! Dear papa!" pleaded the 
weeping Blanche, "Don't! Don't! For my 
sake, don't! His money will do us no good. 
God will avenge the wrong!" 

"He is a villain, daughter, and must be 
brought to justice! I will do it! Yes, I 

A few days later the papers were signed 
and served. 



Several days after the papers were served 
on Dick Scratcher in the Matterson case 
and the young man was alone in the office, a 
gentleman came in and asked for Mr. 
Scroggs or Mr. Bluff. Dick told the caller 
that they were out of the city, when the 
gentleman said, 

"My name is F. A. Tildon and I only 
called to make a few Inquiries. Possibly, 



you can tell me as well as they could about 
a Mr. Sears, who used to be connected with 
your oflace." 

"Sears?" answered Dick. "You mean the 
fellow who used to have desk room here; 
he was never connected with the office. He's 
only an upstart adventurer, who drifted in 
here on the Klondyke boom — a sort of 
would-be Christian and a thorough hypo- 

**Do you know anything of his private 
life?" asked Mr. Tildon. 

"Well, I guess!" exclaimed Dick, eager to 
tell all he knew, if he thought that it would 
hurt Sears. "He uses tobacco; he goes into 
saloons; he hangs around low-dive theaters, 
and once I saw him dead drunk in the arms 
of a variety actress in a box at a theater, be- 
low Yesler way!" 

"What!" ejaculated the amazed Mr. Tildon, 
father of Ruth Tildon. "You don't really 
mean to say so!" 

"Oh, there were two other fellows with 
me!" slowly and quietly drew out Dick, in 
a sarcastic tone, "so I hardly think I was 

"Thank you! Thank you!" spoke Mr. Til- 
don In a most grateful manner. "Your name, 

"Richard A. Scratcher." 

In September the rourts opened and 
amidst a rush of business the happy, joyful 
summer ended and Michael Sears found him- 
self involved in the whirl of the realities of 
life, a struggling, young attorney, with only 
a hundred dollars In his pocket and without 
a permanent clientage. He had captured 
the heart and was engaged to marry a most 
beautiful, charming and lovable young lady; 
but, even with all its happiness, this had Its 
features of vexation and worry. How long 
yet, until he would take her to the altar! 
was a most perplexing problem. It is one 
thing to acquire the treasures of this world 
and quite another thing to hold them, he 
soon found out. 

A few weeks after his engagement, as he 
was In the midst of preparing a case for 
trial, he was astonished to see Miss Ruth 
Tildon step into his barren looking office. 
In a vague way she looked about the room 
and then said, 

"I had an awful time finding your office!" 

"Why Ruth! What is the matter? You 
are looking so pale!" he asked. 

"Oh. nothing!" she replied. "Only, I came 
up to see you before I went away! Papa 
has arranged for rae to go to a seminary in 
the East and, as I leave tomorrow, I couldn't 
go before I saw you!" 

"Well! That is quite a surprise!" he ejac- 

ulated. "What is the meaning of such a sud- 
den departure?" 

"Oh, I don't know!" she answered. "Only 
papa insisted and urged that I must have a 
further course in music and that's all I know. 
I do hope you will write often and let me 
hear from you. Oh, Michael! I hate to go! 
And I have tried to persuade papa not to 
send me so far away as Boston! But he 
would have it; so, I am going!" 

"I'll come up and see you this evening, 
then," he suggested. 

"That's just why I came up here!" she re- 
plied. "Mamma is so taken up with the 
packing and there are so many, many things 
to get ready, that she said I shouldn't have 
you come up. But you will certainly be at 
the train tomorrow morning to see me off! 
I go at eight o'clock." 

It seemed to them as they were there to- 
gether as If they were feeling the presence 
of death. They thought, but words could not 
be found to express those thoughts. In si- 
lence they looked at each other. She sighed 
and then he sighed in sympathy. Drawn by 
an impulse of a soul's most potent power, he 
went over near to her side and took her hand 
in his — her soft and delicate hand. He look- 
ed Into her eyes. He pressed her hand and 
raised It to his lips, breathing a warm, 
tender kiss upon it. In solemn voice he then 

"My loved one! When you go away, you 
will not forget me?" 

"No, dearest! I will not!" 

"And you will love me. with all my 


"Many, many times I have gazed with 
pleasure upon your face as you sat in the 
midst of your dear class of little girls in 
Sabbath school, and I have often been 
touched deeply with your faithfulness in 
teaching and leading their pure young 
hearts in the way of that truest of all love. 
I shall miss your presence greatly there. 
But, as your parents wish it, you must go 
away. Yet, as you go, take with you a 
thought of one you leave, one who loves you, 
but Is unworthy of your great, warm love in 
return!" spoke Michael Sears, his voice be- 
traying his soul's deep agitation. When he 
saw her making to depart, he said: 

"And, now, Ruth, as you are about to go, 
and we will not be able to be together for a 
long time, my dear one, may I not have the 
privilege of a kiss? I would not make so 
great a request were It not for the separa- 
tion; but our being apart will only all the 
more prepare us to better appreciate and en- 
joy the reunion!" and then in a simple trust 
and confidence she lingered for a moment 



to be held in his strong: arms and. turning 
up her lips to his and they kissed each other. 
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she clung 
around his neck and as he tightly clasped 
her to his bosom. 

"I wish that you were going, too!" she 
said; **I shall miss your voice and long to 
hear you pray, when I go to Sabbath school!" 
and breathing a warm kiss upon his cheek 
she tore herself from out his arms and went 

After her departure in a dazed condition 
Michael Sears sat down and stared out of the 
window. The heat of her kiss was burning 
on his cheek. Her sweet, pure breath was 
perfume for his nostrils. Her true, confid- 
ing heart was a field of richest treasures 
for his mind. But now. she was gone! 
Gone! Gone! 

During the summer just passed Michael 
Sears, through great effort and by endless 
labor, had kept the Sabbath school above the 
hundred mark and had brought it now up 
to two hundred. 'At some time in Septem- 
ber, after Ruth Tildon had gone East, the 
preacher came to him and proposed that he 
take the editorship of the parish paper which 
had just been started and of which a friend 
of his was business manager. Having had 
some experience with Mr. Willingworker 
and Dr. Chaser he was slow to take up the 
work, when the preacher, in explanation, 

"You take the editorship and it will be 
entirely under your control." Seeing an op- 
portunity to boom the Sunday school, he took 
it and at a suggestion from the preacher 
wrote poems for the paper, one of which he 
printed each week. He charmed the people 
of the congregation with his able and sensi- 
ble editorials and by the delightful way in 
which he "dished up" the news of the church. 
His poems in spiritual tone and language 
were charming and elevating and gained at- 
tention from the very first issue of the pa- 
per under his charge. In a short time his 
songs were looked for and eagerly read. 
Some thought that the preacher's wife wrote 
them, but when they called upon her for a 
poem to be read at one of their women's 
meetings, they changed their minds. The 
paper, truly, was a grand thing for Michael 
Sears, as it gave him something to do and 
kept him from thinking and longing for his 
absent sweetheart. 

Michael Sears by the first of the year was 
cheered above measure in his Sabbath 
school work to find an attendance of from 
230 to 260 every Sunday, and the records 
showing a weekly increase; all the workers 
were encouraged; the whole school was en- 

thusiastic; money was in the treasury; over 
a hundred and fifty dollars had been paid out 
during the past year for extra supplies; it 
seemed that everything he tried for special 
occasions was successful; friends and mem- 
bers of the congregation looked upon the 
superintendent as a wonder; his influence 
was felt in every line of church work; he was 
thought of to be made an ofl!lcer of the 
church; he had so grown into the hearts of 
those around him, that he was wholly one 
of them, beloved and respected by the mem- 
bers generally. 

One thing, however, developed at the an- 
nual election, when he was elected superin- 
tendent, presumably by acclamation, and 
that was this, that he had a secret opposi- 
tion and leading that opposition was the 
very man who had made the motion that he 
be re-elected by acclamation — Mr. Willing- 
worker. Backing the opposition was Dr.* 
Chaser. A pretending warm friend of his, 
Mr. Speculator, was his chosen opponent. 
All three of these were on the church 
board. ' 



"Helen," said Mr. Tildon the evening after 
he had seen and had the conversation with 
Dick Scratcher in Scroggs & Bluff's. law of- 
fice, "we must forbid Michael Sears coming 
into our home any more!" 

"Why, Pred!" spoke up Mrs. Tildon, in 
surprise. "How you talk! When he and 
Ruth are engaged!" 

"And that's just the matter! " he explained. 
"I don't want her life's happiness to be 
ruined by any such a fellow as he is! I was 
down today to the ofl!lce of Scroggs & BlufiT, 
where he used to be, and I have learned 
some most startling matters concerning 
him! Why, Helen! For him to be superin- 
tendent of our Sabbath school, and to be the 
editor of our church paper, and now to be- 
come a member of our family, is one of the 
most outrageous atrocities ever perpetrated 
upon Christian people. Helen, he is one of 
the biggest scoundrels that ever lived, I am 
very sorry to say, and he shall never come 
into my family! No, never! Were it not 
for the uproar it would cause and the stig- 
matism it would cast upon our church, 1 
would expose him to the public!" 

"What is all this that you have learned?" 
she asked. Then he told her what had been 
told him and wound up by saying: 

"We must not say ft word of this to Ruth, 
but in as quiet a manner as possible get her 
as far away from him as we can. You can 
get her trunks ready and I will send her to 
Boston to complete her musical studies." 



"But the church. Fred! What about the 
church?" she asked. 

"That is a very delicate question and must 
be handled with exceeding great care. But, 
this fellow must be dropped and that's all 
there is about it;" he replied, adding, "but, 
above all things, Helen, do not say a word 
to anybody about it!" 

In the latter part of the summer preced- 
ing boat loads of successful men with chestJ 
of gold dust and nuggets came down from 
Klondyke. On every street corner, in hotel 
lobbies, in bank rotundas, in stores, every- 
where were to be found knots of men, ligt- 
ening to the tales of new discoveries and 
glowing accounts of the harvest gathered 
from the fields already worked. Men with 
Arctic dress — fur caps and fur coats, yellow 
mackinaws, and the peculiar dress of the 
cold, northern climate — were eagerly sought 
and questioned. Fifteen millions of dollars 
in gold were the fruits of the first season's 
clean up. The news was fiashed all over the 
world. A new rush began. The marts of 
trade in Seattle were crowded again. Busi- 
ness boomed. Vessels and boats going north 
were crowded to overflowing. Money poured 
like a flood into the city. 

The gambling houses flourished and ran 
wide open. Variety theaters were filled 
nightly. Bunco men, sharpers, confidence 
games, fakirs, beggars, tramps, transporta- 
tion companies, business houses, new brick 
blocks, new residences, new enterprises mul- 
tiplied and sprung up in the city. Thieves 
and robbers came with the great crowd of 
gold seekers and other people arriving on 
every train. The railroads were taxed to 
their utmost to handle the traffic in passen- 
gers and freight. Seattle waxed strong and 
grew great, while the fame of her prosperiLv 
spread to all parts of the world. 

The harbor and wharves were crowded 
with watercraft of all descriptions, from the 
largest and finest steamers to the smallest 
and most inferior sail boats. Old worthless 
hulks were fitted up and brought into service 
for those who were willing to risk their lives 
upon them. The fiags of all nations were 
seen in the port. Truly, the water front 
presented a field of masts which thrilled and 
encouraged all who beheld the sight and 
stimulated them with the great hopes and 
possibilities for the future. Rents began to 
rise above previous raises. Real estate be- 
gan to advance. Enterprises fiourlshed. All 
lines of business began to feel the fiush of a 
healthy and substantial growth. Success was 

Michael Sears, in his law business, during 
the fall, grew and fiourished with the re'^t 

of those in the city. He began to make 
money and lay aside a fair sum for the day 
of his marriage. During the first few 
weeks after the departure of his loved one, 
he was rather melancholy and lonely; but, 
as business took his time, and he had so 
much to look after in the work of the Sab- 
bath school and to attend to the editing and 
the publishing of the church paper, he was 
not fretted by her absence. And, then, he 
wrote to her and every week sent her a 
copy of each paper fresh from the press. An 
inspiration often arose from the letters 
which he received from her that awakened 
his mind to write some most loving verses 
to the praise of the Living God. 

Mrs. Cloud was very kind to him, and, 
when he brought home to her copies of his 
paper, because of interest in him, she read 
it and cut out the little poems which he 
wrote, pasting them Into a scrap book. Many, 
many evenings during that fall she Invited 
him to read to her. Thus happy, pleasant 
hours they spent together. Dear little Liz- 
zie with her crippled back, loved to have 
him tell her stories as they sat before a 
crackling fire on those long autumn and win 
tcr evenings. 

"Lizzie loves you!" she would often say. 
putting her weak, thin arms around his neck 
and kissing him on the cheek, at which timeF 
ho would look fondly and tenderly into her 
face and kiss her on the forehead. At such 
times Mrs. Cloud would look with rapture 
upon the two, her heart pulsing with pleas 
lire that Lizzie had such an enjoyable com- 

In every success that Michael Sears had 
Mrs. Cloud was the first one to congratulate 
him. As long as roses lasted, she met him 
in the morning, as he left the house, and 
pinned a pretty bud upon his coat. In and 
about his room she showed him countless 
small attentions. It seemed to her that she 
sometimes wished he were her husband — 
she, the beautiful, the attractive, the 
wealthy, the charming Mrs. Cloud, who was 
only five years his senior. 

During that autumn he had tried her case 
against Dick and received a verdict, from 
judgment on which Dick appealed to the Su- 
preme court. The Matterson case was run- 
ning along with dilatory pleadings. Dick 
was having a grand time now. with the 
many friends who hung around him to enjoy 
the money which he freely spent. He had 
a horse and buggy now, and had bought a 
bicycle early In the fall. Then he had en- 
tered politics as a candidate for the "Ins" 
and had been elected to the legislature. 

It was said of Dick that, during the 
campaign, one evening, as he sat eating his 





dinner in a restaurant, Prissie Mai, dressed 
up in the height of fashion came in and sat 
at his table. 

'I see that you're in politics!" said she. 

'Yes," he answered. 

"And you won your note case, too!" 


"Well! I never saw those presents, which 
you sent me!" 

"Now, Priss! Don't mention that again! 
I'm spending money, now, like water, but 
just as soon as the campaign's over, I will 
remember you." 

"No! That won't do! I can't wait; I must 
have them now! You've promised and 
promised and I'm not going to wait any long- 
er! I have a skin coat now, and I have a 
gold watch and chain; but. there's a fine set 
of diamond earrings and brooch down at 
's, which I don't have!" 




'How much are they? 
'Only two hundred and fifty!" 
•Well, being that it's you, I will get them 

"And see that you do!" she exclaimed as 
he finished his meal and walked away. 

On the morrow she received the jewelry. 

It was also related of Dick that during the 
campaign, he hunted up Blanche Matterson 
and made it his duty to try through her to 
square matters with her father. 

"Blanche," said he, "I am awful sorry, 
that I treated you so badly; you don't hate 
me, do you?" 

"D4ck," said she in reply with a ray of 
hope shining into her heart, "I am not an- 
gry at you; only at the evil things you've 

"And you won't do me any harm? You 
won't injure me in my canvass?" 

"No, Dick! I could never do that." 

"Will you try and have your father stop 
that suit against me?" 

"I have tried to do that already; I plead 
with him not to do it, before it was be- 

"And have you tried to have him quit 
working figainst my election?" 

"But, you know, Dick, father is of differ- 
ent politics from you!" 

Then it began to dawn upon young Dick 
Scratcher's mind what, a noble, grand, faith- 

ful, loving character Blanche Matterson was 
and his heart was smitten within him. He 
felt moved to do something for her. He 
asked her: 

"What are you doing now, Blanche?" 

"Working in a restaurant," she replied. 

"Do you ever ride a bike?" 

"Sometimes, when I can rent one; and It Is 
such a pleasure to wind In and out on the 
lovely paths and breathe the pure air and 
smell the fragrant fir and cedar. That Is 
the only pleasure I have, Dick, my only en- 

The next day Dick sent her a wheel, one 
of the best he could get In the city, think- 
ing, "It will please her and be a cheap way 
of winding up that d — d lawsuit of her 
father's, and I havn't used the girl alto- 
gether right, either!" 

Then at Christmas he sent her a hundred 
dollar bill. 

Shortly after the election of Michael Sears 
to the superintendency of the Sabbath school 
and the beginning of his new term, tlie 
preacher of the church called upon Dick 
Scratcher and said: 

"I believe you were In this office when Mr. 
Sears was here?" 

"Yes, sir," he replied. 

"It may seem a little Impertinent of me to 
Inquire of you; but, — did you ever have a 
conversation with a Mr. Tlldon some time 
last September In regard to Mr. Sears?" 

"An old gentleman with gray whiskers?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"I believe I did." 

"And can you substantiate what you told 

"I certainly can." 

"And are you willing. If called upon, to 
do so?" 

"Yes, I guess I can." 

"That's all I wanted to know; thank you!" 
and the preacher left. 

"Well!" mused Dick. "I wonder what he's 

got against Sears? There'll be the d to 

pay in church if that ever comes to a head. 
It will kind of razzle-dazzle Mikey's hold 
on the women! Didn't do a thing with that 

girl of his! He! He! The d n upstart! 

I'll teach him there are others!" But, all 
the while a restless activity filled his breast. 

(To he Continued.) 

The Singer and the Soul 

Bi John E. McUonaui. 

"I will return to you sometime, some- 
where, perhaps through the body ot a.nothei' 
woman; one. probably, quite unlike all that 
Is tangflble in me, but you. Edwin, will rec- 
ognize the soul and know it to be mine." 

"Yes. yea, I shall know." repeated the 
young man as though saying a lesson, while 
with tear-fllled eyes he leaned closer to the 
pillow and scrutinized the dear, wan face. 
He forced back a sob and helplessly endeav- 
ored to hide the greatness of the grief hlA 
heart contained. jJhe a panorama the 
events of his life passed before hie mind's 
eye, and he saw that of the whole twenty- 
elgbt years, only the last one had been 
fraught with happiness for him. And as he 
levlewed it now a sad seriousness took pos- 
session of his soul and influenced him to 
cast out old opinions and believe he could 
be all this woman would have him be. In the 
course of his career Edwin Convls had met 
many women, of many proclivities, but the 
quiet meln, lofty Ideals and fine poise of 
thought that characterized the life of Celia 
Delmore, created in his eyes a halo that 
crowned her every act and set her apart 
from the common many as the one woman 
who could Invite his enthused and admir- 
ing interei^t. He had found himself attracted 
rather than repelled by her original ideas and 
unique i\nef of thought. His impressionable 
nature facilitated the imbibing o( her teach- 
ings until they became a part of him, while 
his heart went out to her In a love that ex- 

alted him and lifted him away from the old 
plane of morbid fancies. 

And now as he stood at the tiedside gazing 
into the depths of the beautiful eyes he 
thought that soon they must lose their lust- 
er; soon the pretty hand he held In his own 
would be sbrunkea and stiffened In death; 
soon the wonderful voice that so often hail 
charmed him with its sweet cadence, would 
be stilled forever. He dwelt on the recollec- 
tion of the Qrst time he bad heard Celts sing. 
His heart seemed then to be a whole world 
filled with music, and hers a universe of It 
that gave his soul its desire. She had sung, 
"A Dream," and he, the sympathetic audi- 
ence, had lived the song with her. Often 
since then had he heard Celia sing. She 
was not a nightingale, as the term la com- 
monly applied, nor one of the host of prima 
donnaa; but when she sang there was music 
In the air and the soul of everyone who 
listened. When the theme was of Heaven, 
earth seemed Paradise; and wben Celia sang 
of the flowers she exhaled with her song a 
faint, sweet something that resembled the 
perfume of a rose. 

Transported by these thoughts the man 
momentarily forgot the sorrowful present. 
But the burden at his heart weighed heavier 
and the Invisible hand at bis throat clutched 
tighter as the woman l)etore him sighed and 
again reminded him that sometime, some- 
where she would return to him and by sign 
or word communicate her spiritual presence. 



"1 shall sing for you/* she said with a 
Emile; *'I shall sing 'A Dream/ and although 
you may not know the form in which I shall 
appear, you will recognize the song and my 

These were the last words he heard. The 
room seemed suddenly to become pervaded 
with a suffocating element against which 
his whole being fought unavallingly, and 
seizing his coat and hat he passed out into 
the night. Even there he did not find relief, so 
hurried on seeking to rid himself of the de- 
pressing influence. Then a revulsion of 
feeling came over him as he realized that 
he was deserting the bedside where for 
many nights his had been the most faithful 
vigil. He attempted now to restrain his feet 
in their mad flight but an unknown force 
impelled him on and no power that he pos- 
sessed could he summon to his aid to turn 
him from the course that he had so unreas- 
onably taken. He was well aware that duty 
obligated him to turn back, but the same 
something that urged him to abandon duty 
whispered that behind him all that his heart' 
held dear had flown. The mourners and the 
house and his life were desolate now. 

On, on journeyed Edwin Convis seeking 
forgetful ness, and days were consumed in the 
search. Although he found the world large, 
his heart was also large and crowded with 
aching memories. Gradually, like a seed ex- 
panding in fertile soil, a thought that had 
been nourished within him began to grow 
and take new form and manifest itself. He 
found himself scanning the features of 
women he met, for the suggestion of a pre- 
cious resemblance. He never listened to the 
tuneful lay of a bird without scrutinizing 
the face of the next woman he passed with 
greater care than ever. He noted not the 
shade of the skin, the color of an eye, nor the 
curve of a lip. He sought for expression 
only. His whole being was always alert to 
discover the indeflnable something that 
would designate from countless numbers, the 
one woman possessing a certain soul. 

Ten years passed by; ten years of unsat- 
isfied longing; ten years of care that mingled 
with the hairs of brown, streaks of premature 
gray. Even the features of the man i^^ere 
altered now, and the disposition somewhat 
changed. The salient characteristics of 
youthful hope and cheerfulness were slowly 
being worn away. Patience was declining 
into sad indifference and the heart becoming 
numbed from suffering. Sorrow, as well as 
Irarning, found its mark in the scholarly 
stoop of the shoulders. But the eyes re- 
tained the habitual alertness, softened by a 
tender, caressing light. 

Then when hope had been almost aban- 

Qoned, the patience and love sorely tried, al- 
though not exhausted, the hungry soul 
found food. One evening while returning at 
an early hour to his lonely home his scat- 
tered thoughts were suddenly caught up by a 
flood of wondrous melody and borne away 
through channels of bliss into the realms of a 
happy past. Transflxed stood the man in the 
darkness before an elegant residence, drink- 
ing in with enraptured delight the notes that 
poured from a woman's throat. He listened 
until the sounds of the song. "A Dream," 
died away on the air, then after overcoming 
an impulse to rush to the door of the house 
and make himself known, he turned away 
and staggered to his abode. Sleep and h& 
were unacquainted that night. The next 
day he made arrangements to continue the 
old search and watch the house where he had 
heard the song. 

But not for many days was his diligence 
rewarded. One gloomy afternoon he saw a 
lady issue from the front vestibule of the 
building and enter a waiting carriage. The 
coachman shut the door, climbed to his seat 
and drove away. Then the silent witness, 
instead of becoming discouraged, suddenly 
felt the blood within his veins give a new 
leap as though infused with new life. He 
recognized the woman! No man, once hav- 
ing looked upon the face and figure of Celia 
Dalmore would readily forget them, and Ed- 
win Convis had many reasons for remember- 
ing. He hurried on after the vehicle like a 
bound, forgetting, for the moment, that the 
identity of the woman he believed to be in 
the carriage was, according to all knowledge 
that he possessed, marked somewhere on a 
slab of marble in the cemetery. But he 
found it difl!lcult to keep the carriage in 
sight; moreover, he could not help but note 
that he was attracting considerable atten- 
tion. He concluded that there was a wiser 
course than the one he was pursuing, so' 
halted to collect his thoughts. 

A spirit of rebellion at his seemingly luck- 
less fate took possession of him, but was 
crushed into humble submission when he 
came to realize the astounding fact that he 
had gazed upon a resemblance that defied 
his reasoning and his recollection of the past. 
The likeness was so near perfect that there 
was no difference in appearance between 
this woman and the Celia Dalmore of other 
days save that which could be attributed to 
change in health and time; and even so, one 
would judge that health had been good and 
time had been kind. Edwin Convis sum- 
moned his patience to his aid and waited 
quietly until again he saw her. This time 
he met her unexpectedly face to face on the 
street. The woman gave no sign that she 



noticed his agitation which indeed must 
have been apparent. The lips of the man 
moved as though he would speak, but he 
checked the impulse for something, he knew 
not what, impelled him to restrain himself. 
In another moment she was gone and with 
her his opportunity. But others were af- 
forded. As the days passed he met this 
woman frequently, and several times he 
thought he discerned in her eyes a dim light 
as of a faintly expressed recognition, but the 
manner of the woman was obviously calcu- 
lated to repel any possible advance on his 

One beautiful Sunday morning he followed 
her to church. This time she was not alone, 
but accompanied by a young woman whose 
face and figure and carriage were no less re- 
markable than her own. Convis tarried 
some time outside the edifice before entering. 
Upon being ushered to a pew he noticed 
:that the two women had taken places in the 
choir loft. He experienced no sensation of 
surprise at this« as it seemed quite natural 
that Celia Dalmore — for in his thoughts he 
had so named her — should sing in the choir. 
For his own peace of mind he endeavored 
to establish within himself the conviction 
that this woman was none other than the 
one he had so long sought to find. "I shall 
return to you sometime, somewhere, through 
the body of another woman." How well he 
remembered the words. And now the pro- 
phesy was to be fulfilled* he thought. While 
the opening anthem was being rendered Con- 
vis heard the singing of but one voice. The 
music reached his soul and filled it with the 
same sweet melody that he felt pervaded the 
interior of the whole church. Each time the 
choir sang Convis gave his attention to con- 
sidering the rare qualities of that same voice, 
and during the sermon he thought of but two 
things: a singer and the coming benedic- 
tion. After services he made his way to- 
wards a group of ladies who stood exchang- 
ing Sunday pleasantries and agreeing mutu- 
ally as to the special merits of the sermon 
which Convis had not heard. One happy- 
faced little member extended her hand and 
drew him into the group, at the same time 
asking his name and furnishing her own, 
apropos an introduction. She began repeat- 
ing his name in conjunction with others of 
those present, which he no sooner heard 
than he forgot. 

Presently a name was spoken that did not 
sieve through his brain like the others. "Mr. 
Convis, let me Introduce you to Miss Dal- 
more. Miss Dalmore, Mr. Convis." 

"I believe," began the lady addressed, sur- 
veying the man before her with a cool stare. 

"that Mr. Convis and I are already ac- 

To Edwin Convis it seemed that the lights 
were suddenly extinguished. With difficulty 
he maintained his upright position and mas- 
tered his agitation. It seemed that hours 
were forced into that moment he struggled 
for supremacy of himself. When he extri- 
cated his mind from the whirlpool of thought 
into which it had been plunged and righted 
his comprehension he returned the stare 
with one that made the woman quail; then 
he suddenly smiled and in polite accents 
said: *'Yes, Miss Dalmore's memory is kind 
to me. I had not given myself the credit 
evidently due me as manifested by her re- 
tentive faculty. I am happy to meet and 
recognize this long sought-for opportunity so 
enjoy ably taken advantage of by myself this 
evening. No one. Miss Dalmore, once hav- 
ing listened to your beautiful singing could 
again indulge in such pleasure without be- 
ing eloquent on the subject. Although I did 
not hear you sing alone this evening, I knew 
your voice among many, and appreciated the 
privilege afforded me." 

The effect produced by these few words as 
picttired upon the features of his listeners 
was marvelous to behold. Miss Dalmore'e 
eyes glowed with the light of triumph and ex- 
ultant pleasure, while the faces of the ladies 
about her betrayed sentiments of an opposite 
nature. Indeed, the man's frankly spoken 
opinion as expressed in his uncalled-for com- 
ment, appeared to distress all save the one 
woman whose singing was in question. She 
began now manifestly to regard him less 
coldly. She endeavored to retrieve her pre- 
vious behavior by showering him with little 
favors of speech. But she did not succeed in 
removing the tension which held the group 
in uncomfortable silence. 

Presently another lady joined the circle 
and through the charm of an exquisite pres- 
ence restored tranquility to the minds of its 
members. This was the friend whom Convis 
had seen accompany Miss Dalmore to church. 
He studied her features now with a strange, 
inconsistent interest, and uttered conven- 
tionalities while he wondered vaguely, as in 
a dream, what power this little person could 
possess that so attracted him. He noted with 
pleasure that she evidently held him in kind 
regard, and half divined that she was en- 
deavoring to hide the fact from him. When 
he saw that she ceased to include him in her 
glances, a nice feeling within him that he 
could not define, made his heart beat with 
quickened throbs. Then he thought of the 
past and of a duty he felt to be his, and a 
struggle ensued in his soul. He endeavored 



finally to follow out a line of reasoning and 
to crush instinct and impulse. 

Through a fine manipulation by the un- 
seen agent that determines as to the juxta- 
position of different human temperaments 
that come in contact with one another, the 
littTe group gradually became divided into 
two, each of whose members mutually rec- 
ognized as a common center, around which 
they could allow their feminine expressions 
and ideas to gyrate, one of the two remark- 
able women who sat side by side in the choir 
loft each Sabbath morn and eve. Edwin Con- 
vis struggled to remain by the side of Miss 
Dalmore, but his . attention and his heart 
were with Miss Larchmount. 

Presently the pastor approached and dis- 
tributed his genial, benevolent smile; then 
the aged sexton hobbled up the aisle and be- 
gan to extinguish the forward lights, seek- 
ing thus to usher the loitering parishioners 
towards the inviting doors. He never could 
quite learn what more need be said than that 
the sermon had been very good, indeed. Con- 
vis accompanied Miss Dalmore outside the 
edifice and as soon as the two were alone she 
began in hurried accents to explain some- 
thing she divined he had not understood. 
"Those women," she said in tones of unmis- 
takable harshness, "do not believe I can sing. 
Your memory, Edwin Convis, has served you 
well, — and me, and I thank you for the frank 
manner in which you made known your val- 
uable opinion. I did not think you would do 
it. Although they did not agree with you, it 
delighted me to see them opposed and cha< 
grined in their favorite theme for once." 

Convis debated within his mind for a mo- 
ment as to what should be the nature of his 
reply when Miss Larchmount appeared and 
then he gladly turned to her. 

"I was complimenting your friend on her 
singing this evening," he said, "and remark- 
ing that I could distinguish her voice from 
all the others. You see, we are old acquaint- 
ances." While Convis spoke these words he 
felt strangely ill at ease. 

"Yes," said Miss Larchmount, "I am very 
fond of Celia's singing, and I think she did 
particularly well this evening." 

Convis walked with the ladies until ha 
reached their home, which was but a short 
distance from the church. At their door he 
paused but a moment, then Ftrode to his 
room with his heart filled with conflicting 
emotions. A mystery seemed to enshroud 
the two women. He pondered on the wonder- 
ful resemblance that the Celia Dalmore of to- 
day bore to the one whose image he had so 
long enshrined in his heart, and considered 
carefully the remarkable coincidence of 
names. He let his thoughts dwell on the 

beautiful singing he had heard this night. 
The Celia Dalmore he knew today, for some 
inexplicable reason, repelled him. The old 
charm of manner was gone; the kind light 
of the lovely eyes was replaced by a steely 
glint; the voice in speaking was harsh and 
unnatural. It seemed incompatible that the 
woman who talked with such rough accent 
could sing so sweetly. 

Then the thoughts of the man passed from 
Miss Dalmore to Esther Larchmount and his 
heart began to sing. It sang until choked by 
further emotion. Its spirit of loyalty was 
shocked by the sudden manifestation of in- 
consistency that assailed it. Convis wanted 
to be true to the purpose of ten long years; 
to prove to himself, and, perchance, to his 
guardian angel, that he was worth while. He 
desired to keep tryst with the soul he had 
promised to meet and to recognize that soul 
when it appeared. 

It was not long before Edwin Convis saw 
Celia Dalmore again. He was passing 
through a park one unusually sunny after- 
noon in December — one of those rare after- 
noons of winter that seemed to bask in the 
sunlight of June — when he heard his name 
spoken. He turned, and there on a bench 
beneath a nude tree was seated the woman of 
mystery. She invited him to a place at her 
side and immediately opened up conversation 
on a subject of great interest to him. 

"I wish to repeat my thanks of the other 
evening, Mr. Convis," she said, "in regard 
to your kind comments on my singing. I al- 
most believe I can look upon you as a friend 
now. But I must admit that I was not so 
kindly disposed when first I saw and recog- 
nized you." 

"Then you knew me?" he queried, while 
vaguely he began to speculate as to the pos- 
sible nature of his next surprise. 

"Yes, I knew you at once," she replied. 

Convis made no rejoinder. He was search- 
ing his mind for the link of memory that 
would connect him with the recollection of a 
time when he had met this inexplicable 

"Why did you desert me?" she asked when 
she saw that he did not intend to speak. The 
man thought that he detected in her voice a 
suggestion of whimpering, but no touch of 
sympathy tuned his heart to make a fitting 

"How could you do it?" she persisted. 
"You said that you loved me — and then — 
and then — you left me." 

Now the conception of a great and awful, 
unheard-of truth began to force its way into 
the mind of the man and drive out all com- 
posure. Every muscle of his being became 
rigid, and it seemed, to his momentarily con- 



torted fancy, that each of the hairs of his 
head asserted itself with a distinct, aggres- 
sive individuality. He forgot that the sun 
was shining, and became chilled in conse- 
quence. A ringing as of many unharmonious 
bells filled his ears and he grasped the bench 
upon which he sat for support. He struggled 
for the power of articulation, and at last the 
words came thiclcly: "You — did — not — die?" 
he questioned. His very features seemed to 
shape themselves into a mark of interroga- 

"I did not," replied Celia Dalmore, almost 

A sudden revulsion of feeling caused Ed- 
win Convis to leap from the bench and con- 
front the woman with an entirely altered 
expression of countenance. His face was 
pale and serious as though portending the 
momentous concern of the words he was 
about to speak. "Then/* he said, and his 
tones were clear, and his words uttered with 
force, "then woman, what did you do with 
your soulf* 

"What— did— I— do— with— my— soul ?'• re- 
peated Celia Dalmore, in profound amaze- 

"Yes, yes. tell me; what did you do with 
your soul?" said the man with a show of im- 
patience. He knew no confusion now; he 
was master of himself, a man capable of 
thinking. He gazed into the woman's eyes 
and read there that she did not understand. 
"I was but jesting," he said, and left her. 

The next time Convis attended the church 
he heard the same sweet singing which in 
memory was with him always. Several 
times during the service he lifted his eyes 
to the choir loft where they met the gaze of 
Esther Larchmount. But immediately he 
had caught her looking she would turn her 
eyes another way. When the service was 
over the same little lady who had welcomed 
him the first time he had attended hastened 
to refresh his memory concerning herself, 
and then intimated, by the feminine trick of 
holding her lips close to his ear, that she had 
some unusual communication to make. Con- 
vis gave her his undivided attention. 

"I wanted to explain to you last Sabbath 
evening," she began, "but you were all the 
time engaged and I had no opportunity. Per- 
haps you noted that when you spoke of Miss 
Dalmore's singing none of the ladies en- 
dorsed your comments with any particular 

"You are quite right," said Convis, "and 
I wondered why." 

"Well." continued the little lady, "she is 
indeed a very ordinary singer, yet she en- 
deavors to force people to hold an opposite 
opinion. The ladies were surprised at the 

time to hear you say what you did, but later 
concluded that you had mistaken the singing 
of Miss Larchmount and given Miss Dalmore 
credit for it. Miss Dalmore is really a very 
e&timable lady, and all that Of course sho 
has her peculiarities, but she — well, you will 
understand. I have heard it said that she 
used to be a really beautiful singer, but that 
a protracted spell of sickness ruined her 

"How very sad," commented Convis while 
through his mind surged many thoughts. "I 
believe you are right about my being mis- 
taken concerning the owner of the voice and 
I thank you for telling me what you have." 
He felt that he did not wish to discuss the 
subject further. 

"You must be sure and come to service 
next Sabbath morning," said the little lady, 
"Miss Larchmount will sing a solo then and 
you will be able to judge for yourself." 

"Thank you, I shall be pleased," replied 

"I wish I had discovered sooner," contin- 
ued the little lady, "that you sing; but it 
is not too late now to ask you to join the 
choir. The church is dreadfully short of 
tenor voices. 

Convis murmured an appropriate reply. 
The little lady's last trite remark had often 
come home to him. The world is short of 
tenor voices. 

The next Sunday morning Convis went to 
church and was ushered to a pew well to- 
wards the front. He studied the faces about 
him and watched the people enter who ar- 
rived later than himself. He saw Esther 
Larchmount take her place in the choir loft 
and experienced a pleasant relief due to the 
subtile adjustment of something that had 
been undefinably wrong. 

The service proceeded as was customary 
excepting that there was more music than 
usual. Immediately following the offertory 
the organ was heard to begin the introduc- 
tion to the solo tnat Miss Larchmount was to 
render. She stepped gracefully down to her 
place in front and stood waiting. The organ- 
ist, a little man with eccentric manners and 
a mat of red hair, who had often been heard 
to remark that E^sther Larchmount sang with 
her soul, after playing through the introduc- 
tion, paused a moment when he noted that 
the singing did not begin. But no sound 
came forth save from the organ, and he be- 
gan the piece again. 

Miss Larchmount had never been known to 
sing without an appreciative audience, and 
so, according to prestige, when she was seen 
to step forward this time an expectant con- 
gregation awaited a musical treat that was to 
serve the mind and soul as well as the sense 



of bearing. But when the singer failed to re- 
spond to the second appeal of her prelude 
and stood still without uttering a note the 
hearts of those who saw became filled with 
misgiving and a dreadful silence fell over 
all that made the organ seem like a groaning, 
living thing. No one moved nor even turned 
to another to inquire in hushed tones as to 
the meaning of this strange break in the 
program. The organist paused again, then 
began playing the prelude for the third time. 
He let his fingers find the keys slowly, as 
though sharing the common dread that the 
end of the strain would be reached too soon. 
Hundreds of eyes were fixed upon the grace- 
ful, swaying form and silent lips of Esther 
Larchmount. Her eyes were eloquent of a 
struggle that was going on within her soul, 
while their unmoving gaze rested upon the 
features of Edwin Convis. 

Nor less were his faculties arrested thau 
those of the fair woman whose unusual be- 
havior he now helplessly beheld. Each throb 
of his heart brought with it the pain of a 
life's tragedy and taught him anew what it 
means to suffer in silence. 

But presently, as the end of the prelude 
was reached for the third time, he saw the 
drooping form straighten, the white bosom 
heave, and knew that the moment of triumph 
had come. Esther began to sing! But each 
li&tening ear was surprised at the discord- 
ant sounds that filled the sacred edifice. 
Plainly singer and accompanist were not to- 
gether. But the clear, sweet voice of the 
woman soon rose in majesty above the plaint- 
ive notes of the organ and established an air 
that the trained ear of the musician caught 
and followed by the aid of his supple fingers 
until the harmony was perfect. Then ten- 
sion was broken and tongues began to wag. 
The words of the song alluded not to a 
Heavenly King nor to the hosts in the 
Realms Above, but bore to the astonished 
ears of the pastor and his congregation the 
vulgar burden of an earthly love. Unappre- 
ciated the first few words of the song fell 
from the lips of the soul in the choir loft to 
the pulpit and pews below like Heaven's 
dewdrops falling on harvested cornstalks. 
But as the beautiful sounds continued to be 
poured forth and the soul of the singer 
sought the soul of the audience, the power of 
music prevailed. 

"Last night I was dreaming, of thee love, was 
I dreamed thou didst promise we never should 
While thy loved voice addressed me, and soft 
hands caressed me 
I kissed thee and pressed thee once more to my 

Before the stanza was finished the congre- 

gation in one accord, like a great, glad spirit, 
forgot the sanctity of the place, the sacred- 
ness of the occasion, and began to listen with 
keen attention, thinking only of the appeal 
of the singer's soul. The man of God in the 
pulpit put away from him all fear of the 
morrow's newspaper with glaring headline 
and graphic detail, ceased for once in his 
life to worry over the hazard of his missing 
Heaven, and gave himself up to the expe- 
rience of an earthly bliss. 

Two of his less susceptible deacons, feeling 
a duty incumbent upon them, started on a 
journey to the choir loft. They managed to 
arrive there coincident with the last word 
of the stanza. * Then they helplessly halted 
and gazed ingloriously about them. The or- 
gan, after pealing forth, the interlude, con- 
tinued the strain for the second stanza. But 
Esther Larchmount did not go on with the 
song although she retained her standing 

Then four thousand eyes bent their gaze to 
witness a commotion in the congregation. 
Edwin Convis was seen to arise unsteadily, 
like one in a dream, and heard to take up the 
air and sustain it with a rich, tenor voice: 

"I dreamed thou wert Hying, m^ darling. . i 
I dreamed that I held thee once more to my 
breast : 
While thy soft, perfumed tresses, and gentle ca- 
Thrilled me, and stilled me. and lulled me to 

After Convis had finished the song and 
had fallen back into his pew exhausted, the 
man in the pulpit, who had a SOUL, pro- 
nounced the benediction. His quiet manner 
seemed a tacit endorsement of the strange 
performance, and although he was never 
known to discuss the affair, his kindly atti- 
tude was understood and received by many a 
sanctimonious parishioner with a sad shak- 
ing of the head and upward turning of the 
eyes. But the more the good man pondered 
on the subject, the more was he wont to 
commune with himself thus: "The Lord is 

It was not long before Edwin Convis and 
Esther Larchmount were seen to attend 
church together and to occupy chairs side by 
side in the choir loft 

Celia Dalmore continued to be a very or- 
dinary singer, but she resigned her place in 
the choir. The friendship between her and 
Miss Larchmount soon became broken — not 
with a snap, because of brittleness, but 
through lack of strength of common purpose 
under constant strain. Before long Celia 
came to be looked upon as a woman of ec- 
centricities and cynical tenets. She lived 
within herself and made a confidant of no 


one. Only cmce was she known to refer to 
Edwin ConviB, and these are the words to 
which she then gave utterance: 

"He married a woman who Baed to be a 
friend of mine. She won him by singing hip 
favorite love song In church— think of It! — 
In church. He is Just such a man as a ro- 
mantic girl like her would take to, though, 

p(;cullar tn his philosophy of lite and quite 
out o( the ordinary In many ways. Recently 
I Baw Id one of the magazines an article of 
his treating on occult matters and particU' 
larized under the somewhat fantastic title of 
'The Singer and the Soul.' " And there 
Celia dropped the subject, never to refer to 
It again. 

Photo bv J. W. Dcnnci/, Rearian, WimA. 


F«lr cblld of eartb. 

My flower ot hope. 

■Tte thee I love ; 

For thee I plead ;— 

All h«BV*n'« glorj, 

Why dost thou linger? 

Fralae tind choirs above 

Sorrows only breed; 

Pale iDto laalgdlflciDCe with Me 

Come, nestle In My arma have 

BV>r 'tt» thy heart, thou fair one, I love thee. 

And Joys and bliss eternal are f 

r thee. 

llj loved one fair. 

The Father waits; 

Cblld, do the beat! 

■mi™ art unhappy— 

Tbe Holy Spirit 

Peace will be to thee 

Holds for tbee sweet real ; 

If tbon but Ik7 th; head upoD My breast 

All comfort, Joy and peace seren 

Is tbine 

And calm tb; spirit In Its tender rest. 

I( tbou but come and promise to 

be Mine. 

Beloved one, come! 

My darling love. 

Cares trouble thee; 

Why thus delay? 

My grief Is heavy 

! come unto Me ; 

Oh, pray come today! 

Come, I will gladly take tby dreary woe— 

Come, let Me take tbee close unt 

o My breast 

I loQB that tbou conOde and Iruat Me so. 

Where life and love exist with 

peace and 

Come preclouB one, 

Thy load <s grea 

Thy burden heavy ; 

1, (he Way, the <3a 

Will lead thee where 

But all IB love and 


for evermore. 

Wouldn't Build It, But Bought It. 

Qeorge Simpson, wbo Is in charge of large 
Interests owned by his tatber, is beyond ques- 
tion a man who does not lay down and worry 
about bow and wben — he goes In and does. 
Seeing the advantage of building a railroad 
into one of the camps, he spoke to his father 
about it, when he was abruptly and Ignomln- 
louBly turned down. Not to be outdone, be 
went to worii and built the railroad upon his 
own account. His father some few months 
after it waa done paid hla son a visit and 
was fairly put out with the railroad. After 
much grumbling the bead of the firm asked: 

"Who ordered this work done?" 

"I did." replie* the young man. "I bor- 
rowed the money and built it." 

"On my credit!" shrieked the old man, 
with an ill-concealed tone of disfavor in his 

"No, on my own credit," retorted the son, 
"and the line Is already earning fifteen per 
cent upon the amount invested." 

"But I am paying it In the'logs It hauls. 
What did the line cost? This paying out of 
Interest must stop." 

"Equipment and all 110,000." 

"Make out a check for It at once, ordered 
the parent. "But, father, it Is my Invest- 
ment; and I don't desire to sell for that 

What do you want to sell for?" the father 

"Twenty thousand dollars," replied young 

"Then make It $20,000." the parent re- 
plied, and George Simpson wrote himself » 
check for 130,000. 

Tho Arreat of Curley Jim. 

Mr. J. K. Worts, of Davenport. Washington, 
tells the following tale of the early da^a in 
Eastern Washington: 

It was In the summer time of 1S79. Lin- 
coln was then included in Spokane county 
and the county seat was the village of Spo- 
kane Falls. All this country was vacant, 
save a solitary settler here and there In a 
lonely cabin. I had been on a trip through 

the country and was returning alone. At 
Haugmau creek I was expecting to stop and 
see an old bachelor by the name of Grant, 
who had purchased a place from the Indiana. 
Ab I came up I was surprised to find Grant 
come out from a clump of trees and call me. 
Looking up the trail towards the cabin I saw 
Curley Jim and his outfit, squatting on the 
ground with their cayuses tethered In the 
open. Grant said that they had been shoot- 
ing at him and fired several times through 
the cabin. I told him to jump In the wagon 
and come along with me to the village. 

Arriving In Spokane Falls, I met Justice 
of the Peace Steve Liberty and told him what 
had happened and eald: "You must go and 
arrest Curley Jim." Grant- when he had 
sworn to the complaint, disappeared. He 
said he wanted to see that they did not bum 
down his cabin. 

I went to the old California hotel and put 
up tor the day. In a short time Steve re- 
turned and coming up to where I was, said: 

"I have arrested Curley Jim, What shall 
1 do with him?" 

"Take him up to Mastlson's and guard him 
carefully," I instructed, knowing of all the 
Indians In that district there was none more 
dangerous and desperate than Curley Jim. 
"Put him in charge of Pat Egan." 

Steve came back in a few moments and 
said Pat wouldn't take the prisoner. 

"Order him as an officer of the law to do 
his duty," I replied. 

"I did," explained the Justice, "when he 
told me to go to h — 1." 

"You send him down to me," I replied. 
After seeing me he went back and took 
charge of the Indian. ,He was placed in a 
back room of the old Coeur d'Atene theater, 
and strongly guarded. 

In the afternoon Chief Geary, hearing of 
the arrest, came to the village and calling 
one of us out, said: 

"You've got Curley Jfm here. Won't you 
give him to me?" 

"Not until you go out and bring In Grant," 
we replied, fearing that the Indians wbo 
were with Curley Jim when he was arrested. 



when their leader was taken, would kill 
Grant in spite. 

Chief Geary left and in about three hours 
returned and said that they had seen Grant 
and that he was all right and then added: 
"Now will you give him to me?" 

"Not until you bring in Grant. We dont 
know whether he is alive yet," we answered. 

In the meantime a great many of the red- 
skins were gathering in the immediate 
neighborhood and matters began to look se- 
rious. There we were only a mere handful 
of whites and a big crowd of Indians gather- 
ing in a menacing attitude. Some of the 
weaker ones began to get scared. We were 
in a Bunch, huddled together, and the In- 
dians were scattered all around us. At all 
times we were in plain sight of the Indians, 
while we could not see them. Night came on 
and still Grant did not show up. Geary 
came up again and demanded the prisoner. 
We again refused to give him up until we 
were assured that Grant was unharmed. 
None of us slept that night. We remained 
constantly on the lookout. 

In the morning Chief Geary came up and 
after another parley we arranged to leave 
Steve Liberty go with an Indian to hunt up 
and see how Grant was, if an Indian was left 
as a hostage to insure Steve's safe return. 
When the party had gone I thought it was 
the proper thing to take the prisoner out for 
an airing, and at the same time to let his 
friends know by a sight of him that he was 
not killed, which would serve to add to the 
comfort of the arrested Indian and also se- 
cure our safety. 

Pat E^gan walked on the right of him and I 
on the left. Behind came Dr. Mastison with 
a large club raised on his shoulder to strike 
the fellow if he made a break for liberty. 
Upon our emerging from the place where we 
had kept him over night, the sight of our 
procession aroused the crowd of braves who 
were in waiting. They jumped upon their 
ponies and when we had gone a few hun- 
dred yards they began to circle around us. 
We did not notice what they were doing un- 
til they had shut off our retreat. We had con- 
cluded to take him to a clump of pines not 
far away. The Indians no doubt thought 
that we had planned^ to hang the prisoner. 
Closer and closer they came crying out an- 
grily all the time. It looked very bad 
for us. 

Chief Geary then rode up directly before 
us and demanded that we give Curley Jim 
up to him. This gave us a chance for a par- 

ley. We began to explain what we were do- 
ing. The chief became obdurate. Then 
Grant eame up. This seemed to quiet mat- 
ters for a while. 

Grant told his story before Chief Geary. 
The tale impressed the redskins. We the^ 

"If you'll cast Curley Jim out of the tribe 
and give us full assurance that no Indiajn 
i^ill go to Grant here and ask him for any 
more money and will not molest him in tl^c 
possession of his property, we will set the 
fellow at liberty." 

We well Knew that we had no right to ar- 
rest him, as that was under the authority of 
the Indian agent and the soldiers. Chief 
Geary then ratified the agreement and we set 
the fellow at liberty. Such was the way we 
had of protecting the early settlers. 

Suited Him to a Dot. 

Alaska and the Northwest have been the 
locations of many an interesting tale, both 
because of the quest of treasure and the ro- 
mance attending and the rough life which 
brings to the surface many a hidden trait 
of human nature. 

A. W. Bueter tells a good joke on Robert 
Weise, of Index, Washington, and the time 
they spent the winter on the Stewart river. 
The cooking had been arranged In shifts, 
of a week's duration. Bueter says that neith- 
er were delighted with this part of the 
work, and that he was a fairly good make- 
shift for a housewife, save that he could not 
bake biscuits without burning theuL This 
caused a great deal of grumbling upon his 
partner's part. At last, when it was his 
turn to cook, an agreement was made that 
each one should keep at this duty until the 
other made a kick. Weise at first demurred, 
but, as he fairly detested the work, he ac- 
quiesced. Bueter had been at the post for 
about ten days, when the biscuits were 
burned almost to a crisp. He placed them 
on the table and smilingly awaited. 

Weise came up to the table with an alac- 
rity which told of a biting hunger and a wild 
appetite. He grabbed one of the biscuits In 
jerky haste, and then bawled out: "Darn me, 
if you haint burned them biscuits again — " 

"What's that?" quickly asked the exultant 

"Oh, I just remarked," said Weise with a 
soft tone in his voice, "that you had burned 
the biscuits again, but that's just the way I 
like them!" 


The glory, hop« and strength of the West 
sre Its young people. Opportunity brightens 
the eye witb the scenes o( endlees actlvitlefl. 
Hope apura the spirit with lucreaalng ambi- 
tion and desire to do and be aomethlng. The 
cheek la painted with the fluab ot zeal which 
arises from a soul that has tasted not ot 
failure. Thus we greet the young ot the 
West. The old may falter, — they may be 
occupied with hiding the acars of prior con- 
flicts: or nursing the wounds of former fail- 
ures; or treating the ulcera of prior mistakes, 
but the young In the buoyance and strength 
of health, with well trained bodies, cultured 
and refined minds, spotless and unblemished 
retmtationa. the young eager and anxious for 
the duties and activities of life, step forth 
and advance to accomplish and perform what 
la to be done. Bright, beaming souls of life 
are the true and noble, the pure and virtu- 
ous young people of the West. The manly 
character! a tIcB and the traits of womanly 
beauty In which they shine and by which 
they are known, are the great pride of those 
around them. They are in every avenue and 
lane of life, and the glory of their 
character is a beaming lamp to betray 
the dangerous placea along the way and to 
encourage with a sense of security and safety 
those who would be noble, true and pure. 
Ah, the glory of the Viest is Its young people. 

The peaked, bony, thinly clad, shivering 
child, atanding upon the corner In the rain 
and mud, la the offspring of passion, not 
love. The peraon who Is nervous, sallow 
complected, bowed down, sad, ever weary 
and tired whose cheeks are pale, and In 
whose eyes the spirit ot life shines dimly, 
Is the creature of passion, not love. The 
tolling, laboring, fretting, worrying, anxious, 
wild, ungovernable, growling, fuming, raging, 
grumbling, miaerahle, wretched, crabbed. 
morbid, gloomy, despairing, seinsh, lonely. 
deserted one, whom to see is but to 
shun. Is the fruit of passion. Passion 
is the desire to consume all that Is 
good for one's own pleasure, regardless of 
tbe Impoverishment of others, and when the 

good In others has been destroyed the per- 
son in whom passion exists finds his Inor- 
dinately diseased nature consuming hla own 
good qualltiea when he stands out a frightful 
monstrosity ol hideous deformities with gan- 
grenous ulcers and festerous sores to be ab- 
horred and despised. Paaalon, not love, Is 
damning the world. Indulgence, not obe- 
dience, Is the road to utter run ad despair. 
Pasaion Is a disease; lore is health. Pas- 
sion dwells In tbe mind; love In the heart. 
Passion Is tbe attribute ot the physical, 
love is the essence of tbe spiritual. Passion 
rules tbe body, love Is tbe god of the soul, 
paaslon brings death; love Is life. Passion 
aestroys; love creates ' forever. 


When the palace wherein dwells a human 
soul Is battered by the storms of adversity 
and the sacred precincts of Its hallowed In- 
ner rooms are entered by the destroying, 
evil Influences of wrong, the end cornea when 
the heart, the receptacle of the soul. Is bro- 
ken. It Is not so much that past dreams and 
hopes of safe and secure happiness are 
thwarted which brings desolation, but tbe 
ruin which Is wrought for the future. The 
spirit which puts a bloom upon tbe cheek. 
which gives a lustre to the eye. which keys 
the voice to pitch of highest Joy. which 
lights the countenance with the brilliancy of 
blissful expectation, which tinctures tbe con- 
versation with musical laughter, which flut- 
ters the mind with mirth, which warms the 
soul with the genial sunshine of concordant 
and eternal lite, which sets the nerves of the 
physical being tingling with exultant, over- 
whelming powers — that spirit when the 
heart is broken, seeps away in the myster- 
ious depths of earthly existence and is lost. 
The soul with Its empty treasure vessel then 
wanders forth aimlessly In despair to realize 
Its wretchedness as It experiences its great 
poverty. As It were, the soul Is driven out 
alone upon the great Journey through an arid 
waste. It Is cheerless: !t Is desolate: it Is 
sad; It Is lost. Again, the soul with the bro- 
ken heart may he likened to a passing stran- 
ger going through the aisles of a great gath- 
ering, where all seats are occupied and no 



one invites it to sit down. Or, thai soul may 
be pictured as liaving endeavored to cross a 
faulty plank extending over a bottomless 
chasm, and being hurled down, down, for- 
ever down, in its last fatal effort to reach 
the land of happiness upon the other side. 

Ah! There is no comparison which can 
even in a faint way reflect the woe and aw- 
ful despair in which a human being with a 
broken heart passes the minutes, the hours, 
the days, the years, the ages, the eternity 
into which it is thrust Day is filled with 
a hollow mockery of jeering fellow beings, 
and night is flooded with the bitterness of 
recollection. Ihe noise of life echoes with 
most doleful tones, the fancies flutter like 
vampires in the chill, and the trembling 
soul is held amidst the empty and barren 
halls and rooms of that human existence 
ever and anon. 

There is nothing of life; all of existence. 
The soul with its wrecked and ruined heart, 
robbed of its spirit is alone, totally alone, 
with nothing, absolutely nothing. This is 
the condition of the broken heart. 

Woe to the man who enters the sacred 
precincts of an eternal life to despoil the soul 
of its treasure store. Woe to the one who 
breaks a human heart. Woe to the wretch 
who will mar the glory or dim the lustre 
of a happy soul. Woe to the person who will 
turn aside when the opportunity is present 
to bind up the broken hearted and to restore 
the spirit to a devastated soul. 


Come and let us examine him. As he 
crosses the threshold of his employer's office 
his whole being undergoes a change. Before 
he paid his own expenses; now does not. 
A dollar's worth of cigars! Jot it down. 
An umbrella! Also, a new pair of shoes; 
Jot them down. Cab fare! Jot that down. 
After a short journey he arrives at the best 
hotel in the town. Later, he makes a call; 
then, he sees his trade; after that, he treats 
his new buyer, plays a slot machine and — ! 
Jot it down. At dinner he invades the se- 
lect apartments of the hotel reserved for the 
"traveling men" and with a commanding air, 
takes a seat. He "jollies" the good-looking 
waitress and "hands her a bunch" of re- 
marks as insulting as silly,. and then pro- 
ceeds to edify the others with a "smutty* 
story, because there are no "ladies" around. 
Like a new filed saw, he rips along and cov- 
ers the fioor with the sawdust of his freak- 
ish conversation and, when his meal arrives, 
begins to complain of the bad fare. 

In the presence of those at the table he 
grows familiar with the girl. Great is his 
mashing power; unlimited his opulence. 

However pure the girl's character, or not- 
withstanding her fair and unspotted mind, 
he flings insinuating remarks at her in her 
presence and about her in her absence. Her 
beauty of countenance, her immaculate and 
tender soul never troubles him: It only en- 
courages him to batter all the more at her 

His lecherous maw opens to drink of the 
pure waters of her virgin soul. His hands 
twitch to snatch her spirit from its sacred 
and secure abiding place. All because she 
is a domestic and brings to him his meat 
and drink, — and is comely and attractive. 
How he grovels in the mire of his own con- 
taminating disposition! A sloughing mem- 
ber is he of his trusted body. Coming from 
his meal, he plots and plans the ruin of a 
perfect and symmetric fellow being as pure 
as his own mother, and as true as his own 
loved one he left behind him to keep com- 
pany with his forgotten manhood. 

In his vicious venality he gloats over the 
snares he has laid and the victims he has 
caught, and upon his return he brings for 
his own beloved one, the secret ulcer of a 
depraved mind and a diseased heart burning 
and crackling with the fires of inordinate 
passion. He takes up the dusty, moth-eaten 
manhood he keeps for home life, and puts it 
on and smiles at his success. Wliat a decep- 
tion — not to those around him, but to him- 
self! Poor, deluded fellow! He might bo 
manly, courageous and noble; but, he chooses 
to be, and is — only a black sheep, nothing 


The western bachelor thinks he is a ne- 
cessity. He is so completely lost in living 
for and by himself that he only knows 
what and who a pure, true woman is by 
memory or through the tales brought to him 
by his male friends. He, in moments when 
alone, wildly raves to have a goddess, he may 
love, or burns with desire to claim a sweet- 
heart at whose knee he might bow down his 
heart in the sweet communion of sympa- 
thetic love; and then, when he has a chance 
to reach the height of his secret cravings, he 
fears he can't take up the responsibilities of 
a husband and make such a home for him- 
self as he desires and of which he dreams, 
so he backs up into his dark little, rocky 
hole in the wall, like a crab, to grow old 
and ugly alone. 

Cowardly villain! He's an example of self- 
ish greed and personal vanity. He has all 
the little luxuries and delights of life he can 
enjoy alone, which money can buy, and 
which contribute for his own pleasure and 
gratification. How he dresses! Well, it suits 



him. There is no one else to please, no 
one else to judge, no one else to criticise. 
Every time he shaves he thinks of the wrin- 
kles. His great worry is that he is getting 
bald. Poor fellow! Selfish, proud, vain! 
He calls to see other fellows' girls, and when 
they are married he comments that he could 
have had them if he only wanted. The con- 
ceited wretch! 

Say, Mr. Bach., don't get mad; just comb 
those straggling locks, which are turning 
gray, down over your increasing forehead, 
and marry that girl who loves you. You 
think she is not quite good enough for you? 
Why, you silly reprobate. The fact that 
you have cut out every other fellow who has 
been trying to gain her affections for the 
past twenty years shows that you lie. Don't' 
be a criminal as well as a fool. Marry the 
girl. Get a home. Be a man. 


It may not have been just as many who 
live in Bremerton would have desired when 
Captain E^ton made his report of conditions 
in Bremerton, wherein he charged that pit- 
falls for the sailor boys in drinking, gamb- 
ling and lewdness were conducted at and 
around the very gates to the navy yard. It 
certainly was shocking to have such matters 
brought to public notice. But it undoubtedly 
was a vast mistake for certain Bremerton 
enthusiasts to think they could better things 
by sending in to headquarters a complaint 
wherein they charge that Captain Eaton 
himself was "taken down the line," or 
"roped in" to a more complete degree than 
he reported the common sailors had been. If 
what the Bremerton people charge is true in 
the case of an official, what must the real 
conditions be for the common "Jack Tar?" 


Happiness and sorrow, joy and sadness, 
good ar ' evil arise from conditions of the 
mind. One may look upon a perfect piece 
of fruit to enjoy its beauty and symmiCtry; 
another, merely to desire to consume it. 
One may behold a statue to be thrilled with 
the graceful outlines and well balanced pro- 
portions and be charmed with the delight of 
its wonderful likeness; another, to be set 
agog with filthy and unmentionable thoughts 
and lusts. One may be placed in the so- 
ciety of an attractive and captivating person, 
the very presence of whom is flavored with 
perfect peace and rapturous joy, to be made 
happy and strong in the largest degree with 
pure delight; another, to be flred with vulgar 
cravings, burning desires for sensuous, con- 
suming indulgences. The one has a mind. 

healthy and strong, for the grand, the noble, 
the true, the pure; the other, a mind dis^ 
eased and weak, for the low, the degraded, 
the deceitful, the unchaste. One serves the 
spirit; the other the body. One is good: 
the other, bad. 


The shooting of N. Gonzales, editor of the 
"Columbia State," by Lieutenant* Governor 
Tillman is one of the most despicable and 
depraved acts of cowardice exhibited in mod- 
ern times. It is a true exhibition of the 
vicious extremity to which venal selfishness 
will lead its votaries. It shows that for all 
the stamp of temporal preferment into which 
a man may foist himself, he may be and is a 
firebrand torn from the reeking, tottering 
elements of hell. This being's brother dis- 
graced the Nation with his diabolical spirit; 
the same tainted, charletanic disposition now 
disgraces a State. The disgrace is all the 
blacker for the fact that the stricken editor 
stood for truth, honor, manliness, virtue and 
right, while the haughty villain, even in his 
success, was a prejudged culprit. The lips 
which spake may be stilled, but the words 
which have been spoken and the principles 
which have been enunciated will go down 
through the repeating ages with increasing 
power and widening boundaries. 


What is more pitiful than to see a beau- 
tiful face, a symmetrical body, a handsomely 
arrayed, perfect, healthy person, going up 
and down the streets and lanes of life with- 
out a spirit in it, — an automaton, doing noth- 
ing for fear it might do something wrong. 
Bless you! If that one had a spirit, a dis- 
position to just start — well, say to merely 
begin to let the sunlight of her soul shine 
out to glorify the lives of those around her, 
she would soon become the central figure of a 
host and a tower of admiration to all who 
know her. 


The most pleasant occupation in the 
world is the building of a home which will 
last forever, not a domicile nor abiding 
place, but a spiritual condition in the pure, 
warm, bright atmosphere of which life Is 
conceived, carried and born as the fulfilment 
of a perfect and true love to grow into the 
delicious fruits of hope and expectation. 
There are no sorrows, no heartaches, no 
woes, no despair, no disappointments in 
such a place. Such a home exists when sel- 
fishness is banished and love is entertained. 




Conducted for and b^ the subscribers cf 9f>E COASS^ 

in tbc interests of IClestern Literature e^nC tmS^ "^ 


1 1 t • > I t 

I 1 1 1 1 I 1 1 • I • 1 1 I « t 

.'• ••.• v' •.'.♦.•. •'.•>•.• •.• • '.• «.•.• ».»•••• 

^(rCVMAfin • 



Floyd Ferguson, Larene, Wn. ; Mrs. J. Ivy, Har- 
rington, Wn. : Mrs. H. T. Bredes, Seattle ; Edwin 
B. Doyle, Seattle ; Mrs. E. Jarvls, Cameron, Wis. ; 
J. O. Byrne, Blk Lake, Wn. ; J. L. Ashlock, Pull- 
man, Wn. ; W. S. Lunder, Sprague, Wn. ; Alex Mc- 
Cullum, San Francisco, Cal. ; Jos. Talklngton, 
Moscow. Wn. ; R. D. Sanborn, Port Angeles, Wn. ; 
T. H. O'Nell, Franklin, Wn. ; Bethesda I. Beals, 
Bllensburg, Wn. ; Harold Preston, Seattle ; Mrs. 
H. C. Plggott, Seattle; Delia M. Sampscll, Belle- 
ville, O. ; Rose Ewlng, Lancaster, O. ; H. Croft. 
Victoria. B. C. ; B. B. Learson, Victoria, B. C. ; D. 
B. Boyle, Victoria, B. C. ; Mrs. T. J. Stephens, 
Vancouver, B. C. ; C. Livingston, Corfleld, Van- 
couver Island, B. C. ; Emily Grosser, Emporia, 
Kan. ; W. S. Heddles, Madison, Wis. ; Wm. Strange, 
Menasha, Wis. ; Miss Pearl L. Benjamin, Danville, 
111. : C. H. Fisher, Elgin, 111. ; Margaret Hunt, AI- 
gona, la. ; Dr. G. C. Hays, Willlamsport, O. ; James 
wllhelm, Columbus, O. ; Miss Mabel Everett, Mar- 
lon, O. ; L. B. Sartaln, South Pittsburg, Tenn. ; 
Mrs. Phil. P. Clark, Eureka, Utah ; Wm. McKenile, 
La Cananea. Lonora, Mexico ; Jacob Koerber, Belle- 
ville, O. ; Rev. C. McKlllop, Lethb ridge. Alberta, 
Canada ; W. F. Ashew, Grand Forks B. C. ; J. C. 
Peterson, Duncan, B. C. 

The headpiece of this month^s Coast Is the 
work of Mr. E. Berquest of Seattle, a talented 
young artist who is gaining recognition for his 
drawings, as he well deserves. 


The following questions and answers have been 
sent In from various members for discussion by 
subscribers Interested in this department. An- 
swers should be concise, direct and not to exceed 
a hundred words. Address communications to 
Editor the Coast Literary and Art Club, 

The Const, Seattle, Wash. 

Query 1. — Who is presumed to be the first 
writer In the world? 

Ans.-Some claim Confusdus, while others main- 
tain that it was Moses. At any rate the oldest 
known book extant is the Bible. — Spokane. 

Query 2. — What is your opinion of the Bacon- 
Shakespeare controversy? 

Ans. (1) — I think Shakespeare wrote Shakes- 
pear's plays and, if he didn't, he ought to. I 
licver could have patience with the cipher proposi- 
tion which showed that Bacon wrote the plays, 
or any of them. — M. E. B. Ans. (2) — I am of the 
opinion that Wm. Shakespeare was the owner of a 
larj^e theater In London and had around him a host 
of playwrights who wrote the plays and got up the 
general outlines which were submitted to Mr. 
Shakespeare and he, like the big manacrers of to- 
day, took the manuscripts into his private office, 
revised them, and set them forth as his own. The 
peny a-liners were willing enough then as now to 
give up their talents for a living and Wm. Shakes- 
peare gave them lodging, clothing, food and drink 
for their brains. — E. P., Whatcom. 

Query 3. — Who wrote the oldest public docu- 
ment known to history? 

Ans. — Abraham, when he bequeathed his prop- 
erty to his heirs. — Lawyer, Seattle. 

Query 5. — Who was the first person to become 
famous In literature in the State of Washington 
and when did his first production appear? 

Ans. — Among the early writers of the State of 
Washington are the names of John G. Swan, of 

Port Townsend. who wrote a history of the In- 
dians, and a scientific work. Judge Elwood Ev- 
ans, of Tacoma, fifteen years ago published a vol- 
uminous history of this state. Myron Eel's name 
Is also mentioned among the writers of Washing- 
ton. But, it seems that It remained for Ella Hlg- 
glnson to be the first writer to become famous, 
which she did in her first book entitled '*The 
Flower That Grew In the Sand," which was pub- 
lished In 1896. — A. F. B.. Whatcom. 

Query 6. — Is it proper from an ethical point 
of view for a writer to engage for a specific sum 
to produce articles on a given subject and treat 
them with a coloring and deduction which he be- 
lieves Is not borne out by the facts In the case? 

Ans. — It Is certainly very Improper from a mor- 
al point of view and yet more so from a literary 
standpoint. A writer should breathe Into words 
the true Inner thoughts of the soul and those 
thoughts cannot be borne through the paternity 
of money. 

Query 7. — Is it true that great writers are 
always poor, and if so, why? 

Ans. — It is not true that *'great writers" are 
always poor, but a "great many'* are. The rea- 
son for the poverty of many great writers has 
been their slight appreciation of ''this world's 
ffoods," and also, the large amount of time they 
devote to study and meditation. They are often 
impoverished through bad investments. They are 
sometimes financially embarrassed because of much 
entertaining. And then, very often the most meri- 
torious writings are not accepted until the writer 
has "passed In his checks." Literature Is a fickle 
goddess whose votaries are as the sands of the 
sea, but whose favorites, or high priests, are as 
few as the four-leafed clovers. — Anna S., Tacoma. 

Query 8. — Should a parody be classed as a lit- 
erary production? 

Ans. — A literary production is a writing which 
in either expression, or thought. Is original. In a 
parody the thought is suggested and the expres- 
sion is imitated. Do not consider a parody a lit- 
erary production. — Bllensburg. 

Query 9. — Where did the idea originate that all 
poets are Insane? Do you believe that such is the 
case? What is poetry? 

Ans. — Its origin rests with the unharmonlous, 
cruel, unsympatnlzlng Main, 

Live — Poet — Dream, — 

For such may bow In shame. 

Mad? the Poet, mad? 
Would they clinch his vital span, 
Boca use he dares to reach beyond 
The allotted time of man? 

Because he sees the sun. 
Behind some floating cloud, 
Or In the twilight dreams. 
Of daisies 'neath their shroud? 

Dream — Poet, sweetly dream — 
On your pillow of downy lace. 
And dare the world to frown, 
Or one dear line erace. 

Poetry Is — Art, — ■ 
With love enshrined. 
Transformed by the inspired pen. 
From the Divine. 

Live — Poet — Live. 
— Emma E. Rice, Fairhaven, Wash. 


QatTj 12. — Are tbe newspapers tlie proper med- 
lams from which to Judge "f the best literature ol 
tbe present time? 

Ane.' — ^Na : because Ibey are merely gotten up In 
haste to anrvHil the EdHHln and news. Onlj In 
It sssertloDS printed 

In tbem worth; n 
uid form they e 

9 glance. 

I they 

— T criterion of tuc 
iroduce it bat has 
and then obly as 

wltli It Faith and Cbarlty and Hope, for those 
were (be roots. Then tbe leaves, which were Beau- 
ty : and then the sap, which was Virtue and Hon- 
or; and when Ibej were througb the Man'a liter- 
ary iree was nothing but a hlUBted. withered, black- 
ened trunk. — unworthy of a place among records 
and narratives,— tor It bad been bere(t o( that 
nhich is in the Bible. ^Ilenry Burns Qeer, Nash- 

jiB- — In itaelf photograpby Is only a mechan- 
operatlon. but In the posing of a subject or 
selection of a view to be pictured It ia an art. 

been published in an other 

a reflector. Books and periodicals are me pre 

tlon boxes of thought, life and action; the 

papers are the looking glasses. — J. A. F.. 


Query IT. — Sbonid photography be classed 


theL _ . . 

Tben In the printing oI a negative and the toning 
o( the print and the moanling of the picture It 
la as art to get the beat results. I gness In Itself 
photogra pby Is not an art, but an artist In photo- 
napby can make bis work that ol art. — A, Q., 

Query 20- Should the Bible be classed as a lit 
crary product I on? 

Ads. — Inspiration seized tbe man. — the muse 
flowed freely. — and he wrote, and wrote,— and 
wben It was flnUhed. he exclaimed : 

■Thla Is great,— ■tis mine I My own,— the child 
. . „ .. . J among (-*■---— ■--• 


mile I 

iry production? 

Query lO.^is dlaleetwrlting 
reversion of literary merit? J 

e Buy schools of a 

Query 18. — la printing bd art or a businesiT 

Query 19,— What makes a painting valuable! 

Query 21, — Are tbere any great writers of tbe 
present day and what Is the criterian by which 
tbey are adjudged? 

Query 22, — Is It true that many oC the great 

Query 23.^Whjt Is the dlBerence between n 

.and n 

8 of fl. 

purge, for 1 will bave naught before written," 
cried tbe author. 

And then the critic drew forth the Rlble, and 
with It he reviewed the work of the author. — and 
ti« atmck out all that whicb was like unto that In 
the Bible : 

First, tbey dug up love, and cast It aside, and 

Query 24.~ls tbe morning 
lest time In which to write ■■ 

Qnery 25.— Are there any set rules whkb a i 
OD can follow and become a great writer! 

Query 2fi. — Should a popular writer be eon 
red a literary genius? 

Query 27,^lVbal are the best ways by wblc 
lerson can gain popular favor as an author? 

Photo bv f-. "- • 

... ... ,..j biJok Rubllahpr of New 

YoTlc. hai Biirprlsed Ibe trade bj' epadlng out *. 
ters attractive oat caleDdar for 1003, wblch ap- 
pears Co be printed on wuodfn boarda, but la a 
veneer of while maple over straw board. It Is a 
moat striking DOTelty of the aesKon. 


Of a 

ertlon o( v 

1 bj t 

IBddy, of Idaho, and preacitted to the publk at fifty 
cents per. In paper tafk, 103 pages. This bl^h- 

Srer on the winged steed of the muBea Is twency- 
gbt years of age. and good- looking. The leadlag 
poem la about bell. Thia la followed by ■ aelec- 
tlon entitled 'Womnn." The third Is "Only One 
" " ~ ■■ n la tha 

e for I 


tlon of I his book, 

press of the Tribune rrlnllng rompany, id najt 
Lake City. Utah. Id the dedlrallnn the author 
CrlB out, "Ob. for a voice, oh West, to slag of 
thee." and CbeD prints a poem about bell. This 
stroke shows tbe mark of genius. (Clarence F.. 
Bddy, Salt Lake. I'lah.) 

8IQN0RA. by Gustav Kohhe and profusely Illus- 
trated by photograph -engravings. Is tbe title of a 
volume wblrh gIvM the story of a little girl who 
was lilven away by her mother to a New York 
opera bouse when nhe was hnl a few days old. In 
the tale la woven many pleasing bits of life be- 
hind the scenea. which have much similarity lo 
those connected witb Ihp Metropolitan Opera 
House, in .Naw York. "Slgnora" Is Interesting 
from beginning to end. and Is a book new la con- 
ception and modero In lis plot. It is tbe rendition 

R, H. Russell. I 

9 girl. 

il'rlce tlM 

What Is a n 
lit like a gl 

"An opportunity, may flit 

llefore ns like an Incubus. 

We eilher get the worat of it, 

Of else it gets the best of us," 

It la an exeellenl gift-book, eapeclally to present 

to pnidea and Rerloiis lovers, (Price, H<l ceniK 

net, Henry T. Contes A Co. Philadelphia.) 

JIM AND ,IOK, by Howard S. Rills. Is a tale 
of adventure for boyK, It 1b full of wild, out-door 
life, and touches all pbHuea of romance delightful 
to boys. Througti tbe book, hack of all the action. 

chanced to fall upon a fortune by buying u 
boss" at an eiprexH ofllcc. The iilot linn mf 
congrullies which the buys eaclly overlook 1i 

the success of being goiHl aiid the failure of 
doing. II Is a f^nrfiilly kIH 

somebody," Then, the mode Id which this created 
lawyer (?) given tbe tioys lllle to property Id 
Denver Is absolute rot. It pays to write the truth, 
and do It right — especially when creallDg atorlea 
for boys. (Price SOc net: 433 pp. Henry T, 
L'oates tc Co.. I>h1ladelph1a.) 

JAMES LEDDV. a prominent attorney of Seat- 
tle, has had published by the Abby Prei'x, ot New 
York, a. novei, entitled "Tbe New Republic," It la 
a story dealing with trusts and industrial prob- 
lems and written In a smooth, pleasing Ktyle. It 
la a book after the style ot Moore's "Entopia," 
-■ad when li baa been widely read will have some 


upon public 1 

BABY ROLAN'D BOOKLETS, continue to be 
asclunling to children aa well as Intensely Inter- 
stlng to older folks. It Is hard to conjure S 
lore pleasing and delightful matter for book-mak- 
3g. Every mother's heart la won upon Urst alght. 
'Ive nurahera- are now out; "Vespers." "The Ab- 
ent of Man." "Lima Beans." "la Compaay," and 
■■■- ■"-■ ■ "" 11 gems. (Price 

Elder k » 



a twenty-four volume staadard library edition of 
tbe works of Jobn PIske with over three hundred 
Illustrations, which will be sold eiclualvety hj 
subscription. Profeasor Joalab Ruyce of Harvard 


the American publlc- 


for the year 

brought before 

"llcations they 

- — „-, - Ing the best 

UNO entirely timely Htorles and esaays. Of a truth 
this great publishing bnuHe la leader in catering 
to the home life In Its porloiUcals and books, 

editor of the Atlantic Monthly. The aim Ot this 
liook Is to diaciias the outlines of tbe art of fic- 
tion. It deals with tbe novelist's materials and 
hia use of them : with plot and character and 
background, as portrayed by the great story writ- 
ers : wltb tbe various forma of modern fiction, and 
lis relation to kindred arts like poetry and tbe 
drama. In writing li Mr, Perry has followed more 
or less closely tbe noicf prepared, a few years 
ago, for a coarse of lectures on "I'roee Fiction." at 
Princeton University. These lectures were re- 
l>eated with several claanes. and many teachers who 
' ■ Eiamlne the syllabus of the 

lion Willi mem. nave asked Mr. I'erry to print a 
l»>ok that would be adapted to elTectlve use In the 
classroom. (Price tl.-'i net. poatpald for (hose 
who mention TiiK Coast, Houghton. Mifflin ft 
<-o,. Boston.J 

TRB LA8T nORD. by Alice MscOowan, ia a 
siory of New York as seen through the freah. keen 
eyes of a young girl wbo goes out of tbe Southwest 

s and tbe 

(Price tl-ill. L 

e point ot view Is 
"Ttie Last Word" I 
C. I*age * Ca. Bm 


The Lllerarj' Digest Ib BtBDdard, It 1b authcntlo, U 
iB tellable. It la published by Fiiiik & Wagnalls 
Compaa;, New York. 

llBhed by F. Marriott, la the leading weekly period- 
ical npoo ibe raclQc Coast, its CErlatmaa editlMi 
was a gem, and excelled In pictorial and literary 
teatnreB. Sao Fraaclaco can rest ssBured Cbelr 
anpport of the News Letter Ib no mistake. 

" Langton. editor and pnb- 

■cetiery o[ El 
sell tor nitj c 

I goigeouB holiday Dumber of 84 

'er was beaatl fully llthograpbed In 

The tlluBtratlona of peopl* snd 

all Territory were eicellrait. They 

.. Cbadvlck. the publisher, upon h 
of doll ~ ■■• 

I complla- 


o this 1 

be mlgM 

■ hla pull. Tbe 

Hon. JobQ a. McQraw. Will H. 
aa. JohD J. UcOllvra, TrsTor Kia- 
. Matthews, p. D., Geo. 

publlsbed at Seattle, by Honor Wllhelm, tor Octo- 
ber, la at hand, a gem Id typography and illnatra- 
tloD, appealing to the reader In gema of thought 

_ a of home scene 

mbec, and la worth double tb 
Its.— Bentinel, Snmaa. Wash. 

THE ARGUS. In Ita Chrlatmas nnmber. from a 
pictorial point of view, waa a patent exatnple of 
moat excellent mechanical art. The reading matter 
waa ot a. commercial nature throughout Isava a 
poem by Richard Osboni). and came from tlie pen 
of James B. Uelkle. Ur. Melkle la to be cimgraln- 

Edgar L. Hampton, published a noUday number 
which waa attractive. Interesting Inatructlre aad 
qnlle represents tire of tbe Tarled pursuits and 
pleasnrea oF Seattle. It* curer design was original 
and represented Seattle as an Indian maiden beck- 
oning to all tbe Orient and Alaska, beseeching them 
to come to Seattle, notwithatanding the yellow-boy 

clnalon art. it's a ^ood thing Mr. Hampton Is a 

Sclent 1 lie Syatem for 

BUST and 

raPROvrNG the 


Ini'ludea the use of 
Klettrldty. Mechan- 
ical -MaSHage. Inter- 
nal and KKemal 
Medication, and 
Physlca] Culture. 
Abnolutely u n r 1- 

pleaaaot and cITect- 

I plain sealed 
l)e. Dbpt, a. 

Home Study 

Scbool ot BSng- 
llab Compost 

for Writers... • r^rTS 

branchei of Bngllsh compoBltion for general 
students and professtonal writers. Instruc- 
tion in Jonmallsin, story vritins, verse, al) 
classes of literary composition. Practical 
lielp for llter»iT beginners. How to write 
correctly. BuKllsh grammar made plain. 
Punctuation and conetructlon of sentences. 
For Circulars Address: School of English 
Composition, care THE EDITOR, Frank- 
lin, O. 


A Public Letter* 

January 6, 1903. 
To Whom It May Concern : 

That those interested in the growth and establishment of a literary, historical 
and general illustrated magazine in the Northwest may know something of the 
reception which The Coast has had, the following figures are given : 

Through the direct personal solicitation of Honor L. Wilhelm from February 
15, 1902, until December 1, 1902, 1,581 new subscribers, paid in advance, were 
secured, and over 827 newspapers and periodicals were added to the mailing lists. 
During the past eleven months the cash sales, including news stands and lots in 
hundreds and over, have grown from nothing to from 600 to 1,260 copies monthly. 
These, with a list of 1,600 old subscribers and lists which have since been secured, 
make monthly sales and copies sent out aggregate from 1,760 to 11,000. By months 
the numbers printed and sent out have been for 1902 as follows : 

January 1,750 

February 2,500 

March 2,000 

April 2,200 

May 2,700 

June 3,400 

July 3,400 

August 3,000 

September 3,500 

October 11,000 

November 3,500 

December 5,000 

Total 43,950 

Monthly average 3,662^^ 

The year of 1903 opens auspiciously and there seems no reason why Thb Coast, 
in the next twelve months, cannot double its list of subscribers and at the same time 
increase the quantity and quality of the contents. If you want to keep in touch with 
the Northwest and know the trend of its writers and thinking people, you should be 
a regular subscriber to The Coast, the only monthly magazine in the Northwest, 
and one which is run under the plan that it is best to tell the truth and stand for the 
right at all times and in all places. 



Editor and Manager. 




This monthly magazine (The Coast) Is one of 
the best in the west. — Independent, Vancouyer/ 
B. C. 

Tarn Coast, printed at Seattle, Is a superb 
magazine, containing considerable original literary 
matter, and is elegantly lllnstratea. — Mist, St. 
Helens, Oregon. 

Thb Coast is a very creditable illustrated maga- 
zine, published in Seattle. — Olympia Chronicle. 

The Coast^ a magazine published .at Seattle, 
comes to our table each month. It is full of inter- 
esting matter, especially to a Western man, for it 
is, as its title page proclaims, an illustrated maga- 
zine of the West. — ^Douglas Island News, Douglas, 

Honor L. Wilhelm, editor of Thb Coast maga- 
zine, was looking over the points of Interest in 
Somas and yiclnlty this week for that magazine, 
with a view to writing them up. Mr. wilhelm 
Is doing good work for the Coast in bringing its 
remarkable resources and rapidly growing indus- 
tries into public view, and should, therefore, re- 
ceive a liberal support. — Sumas Mews, Sumas, 

Thb Coast^ an illustrated magazine published 
in Seattle, Washington, is interesting to all Hy- 
ing on tlie British Columbia seaboard. * * Thb 
Coast Is "hyas Klosche." — News, Cumberland, 
B. C. 

TAB Coast is a handsome monthly published at 
Seattle, and is in the third year of its existence. 
It is published and edited by Honor L. Wilhelm. 
^ * * He is energetic and an able writer, 
and we predict for him a successful career in his 
present work. — Tribune, Shelton, Wash. 

Thb Coast is fast taking a front position among 
the literary productions of the Pacific Coast. — The 
Qray's Harbor Gazette. 

Thb Coast is a high-class magazine of the 
West, in which quality predominates over quan- 
tity. — ^Everett Record. 

H. L. Wilhelm has taken hold of Thb Coast 
magazine, and the first number under his direction 
is at band. There is a field here for a literary 
monthly publication, and The Coast deserves the 
support of the public. — Seattle News-I^etter. 

Thb Coast is the name of a new publication in 
Seattle, Wash. It is a gem of the first water, and 
we trust that the whippersnappers down there 
will be able to appreciate something outside of 
yellowlsm and cussing other people's notions. — 
Portland (Ore.) Mercury. 

Thb Coast^ a monthly magazine published at 
Seattle, which is forging its way into the front 
ranks of Pacific Coast literature, is threatened 
with all sorts of punishment if it doesn't discon- 
tinue publishing a serial story of Seattle life 
which thoroughly portrays the wiles and schemes 
that made the city notorious in early Klondike 
days. So true to life is the story that certain 
parties see themselves in Its mirror, and are 
threatening action for criminal libel. But The 
Coast, wltn proper spirit, caltaily pursues the even 
tenor of Its way, continues the story and defies 
Its assailants. — Cowlitz Advocate. 

The Coast Is the title of an attractive, finely 
Illustrated magazine published at Seattle, Wash. 
It is edited by Honor L. Wilhelm, formerly of 
Ashland, who displayed much talent in literary 
work while here. — Times, Ashland, Ohio. 

The last issue of The Coast^ Seattle's live maga- 
zine, is an excellent number, and the work now 
presents an air of solid permiinency and literary 
merit that bodes well for its future prosperity. 
The serials and short stories are models of ex- 

cellence, and the illustrated write-ups of sectional 
features of the State of Washington are very inter- 
esting. — Mist, St. Helens, Ore. 

The Coast is doing fine work for the great 
Northwest by showing up the many attractions of 
that interesting country. — ^The Mall, Linden, Ten- 

The Coast^ an illustrated magazine of the West, 
edited and managed by • Honor L. Wilhelm, a 
former Newark lawyer, is growing bigger and bet- 
ter with each month's issue. — ^The Aavocate, New- 
ark, Ohio. 

Thb Coast is a handsome specimen of the print- 
er's art. The half-tone illustrations are excellent. 
The literary features are well selected. — ^The Star, 

Honor L. Wilhelm, publisher of The Coast^ Is 
threatened with a libel suit. A former office asso- 
ciate of Wilhelm's acknowledges himself as the 
heavy villlan in a story now running in Thb 
Coast. If the gentleman threatening the suit Is 
really portrayed as ''Scratcher," he has a kick 
coming, for the character is not an admirable 
one. At this distance It appears, however, that 
the acknowledgment was the outcome of a hasty 
judgment. Then, libel or no libel. The Coast gets 
a piece of advertising. Wilhelm may not be dis- 
creet, but he certainly has nerve. — Reveille, What- 
com, Wash. 

The Coast magazine Is a credit to its editor and 
publisher, Honor L. Wilhelm. This publication Is 
growing In the public estimaticm, for the reascm 
that it is run along le^tlmate lines and on a high 
plane. . . 1 Mr. wilhelm is <m the right 
track, and is certain to make a success of Thb 
Coast. — ^Washlngtonfon. 

The Coast is well worth reading. — Big Bend 

The Coabt contains stories of high class, and 
is interesting throughout. — Press, Pavid City, Neb. 

The Coast, an illustrated magazine of the West, 
under the editorship and management of Honor 
L. Wilhelm, is filled from cover to cover with ex- 
cellent reading matter. The articles and Illus- 
trations descriptive of the resources and beauties 
of the Northwest appeal especially to the pride of 
our citizens. The stories, also, are of high order.— 
Pacific Progress. 

It (The Coast) is strictly a magazine of the 
Northwest, and Its articles have a local interest.— 
Journal, South Bend. Wash. 

The Coast is a new monthly magazine that has 
come out of the Northwest, being published at Se- 
attle. The current number contains the fourth 
installment of **The Triumph of Michael Sears," a 
Seattle romance, and Illustrated sketches of 
Sprague, Washington, and the valley of the Yakima 
river. The publication is bringing Seattle forward 
in the literary world. — Paradise of the Pacific, 
Honolulu. H. T. 

The Coast, "a monthly magazine of the West," 
is one of the neatest publications that reaches our 
table. It is a Seattle product, and is handsomely 
printed and Illustrated. Send 10 cents for a sam- 
ple copy. — Pioneer* Stevenson, Wash. 

One of the brightest and most attractive maga- 
zines that has reached our desk in many a day 
Is The Coast, published at Seattle. It is strictly 
a magazine of the Northwest, life and joy in 
every line, a laudable pride in our vast natural 
resources and throbbing young cities. We like It. 
— E«nterprise, Fairfield, Wash. 

The Coast is deserving the support of every 
loyal and public-spirited resident in the North- 
west. — Journal, Kent, Wash. 



Monthly Acnouncement 

Third Avenue Theatre 


WMk CommcDclnit Jao. 2S — 


WMk CommeDclDg Feb. I — 


Week CommeDcins Feb. 8— 


Week Commencing Feb. IG — 


Cor. Third Ave. and Madlwn 8L 
Pbone UKln 667 
Prices: — 20c, 30c, 40c 60c, 

Every issue of THE COAST is 
a Souvenir Edition. Send it to 
vour friends in the East. 

Monthly i 

Seattle Theatre 

J. P. HOWE, Manager 


'd Ave. and Cberrjr. Fbooe, Hals 48. 
Popular Price*. 

Seattle, Everett and Edmonds Route 


TiM Fine, Palatial Paaaen(ar Hipt 

Colcnao Dock, Seattle. 


Athlon. Inland Flyer. 

Only pftSBenger atvunihlp IUm to 
the Puget Sound Naval SUtloo. 

Columbia Dock. SEATTLE. 


McLaren a Thompson, 

Seattle, Waeh. Princlpala. 

Tell BdTertlaera 70a Mv tbetr adv. In, Thb COAaT. 



i 1 




DC Sons of llK Coikr$ 

I gat me up at morn before the gun 

And, ere the flag of night was furled, 
I heard the tramp of busy feet upon 
The ceaseleBS treadmill of the world; 

Then, through the gray that glows before the dawn 
Beheld the shapes of toilers passing on. 

I sat and gazed upon the way of life. 

As time threw wide the gates of day, 

And saw a throng in never-ending strife 

Burst from the beds of night away 

Ere rest had soothed their aching joints, who are 
The toilers driven hard by want and care. 

When earth had rolled the curtains from the skies 

And waked hpr spectres doomed- to toil, 
. She gave the faithful hope to gain a prize 
And, for the wCary, tedious moiJ, 

Set each soul with its daily sacrifice 
That nearer life's eternal paradise. 

-February 3, 1903. 

Cop;rigbt. lt>02. b; HoDor L. Wllbclm. 

clature of 


Charlotte L. Hai 

When It was dlacoTered that North Amer- 
ica was a new continent, all nations became 
anxlouB to find a waterway from the Atlantic 
ocean to the Pacific to shorten their route 
to India and China. 

The northwest coast was visited by tour 
nations, Ruselane, Spanish, English and 
Americans, for the purpose of discovering 
this supposed Strait of Anian that would con- 
nect the AUantic with the Pacific. 

A Qreek by the name ot Juan de Fuca 
claimed that he discovered that strait In 
1592. This is supposed to be untrue, as 
there In no record to that effect except as 
told by bis trlend, Michael Lo)c. 

In 1775, Spain sent Quadra de Bodega and 
Heceta to the northwest coast to find this 
strait. While exploring the coast of what 
U now Washington, they discovered an 
Island, June 13, 1775, in latitude 47 degrees 
30 minutes, which they named Isla de Do- 
lores, The Pacific Coast Pilot states It was 
here some of their men were murdered by 
the Indians and that therelore they named 
it Isla de Dolores, "the island of sorrows." 
But Bancroft says this Is not true. He 
claims the crew were murdered a distance 
from this Island, and that "Dolores" was the 
name of that day and the Island was, there- 
fore, so called. 

Quadra de Bodega and Heceta separated. 
Heceta, In the Santiago, remaining on the 
coast of Washington, Bodega, in the Sonora, 
going north. 

On July 17, Heceta discovered a bay In 
latitude 46 degrees 9 minutes which he 
named Bahla de la Asuncion, calling the 

article c 

1 tbe pen of o 

t )n attendance when the n _. 

the matter compiled. Other like papers 
laed from other educatlanal Inatltatlo 
Nortbweat.— The Editor. 

northern point San Roque and the southern 
rioint Cabo Frondosa. It was subsequently 
called by the Spanish "Ensenada de Heceta," 
and was, of course, the mouth of the Colum- 
bia river, between capes Disappointment and 

Wblle the Spanish made some discoveries 
along the coast and placed some names on 
these places, yet these names are not of 
much value to us, since they did not remain 

In 177S, the English sent Capt. Cook to find 
a waterway connecting the Pacific oceui 
with Hudson Bay. He was directed to sail 
as far north as 65 degrees. 

March 7, 1778, Capt. Cook first saw the 
coast of New Albion, and on that day dis- 
covered and named "Cape Foul weather," on 
account of the bad weather he encountered. 
On March S he named "Cape Perpeta" and 
"Cape Gregory." He continued north up the 
coast, and on March 22 named "Cape Flat- 
tery," as be supposed they were nearlng a 
harbor. In his Journal he says, "It Is In thU 
very latitude where we now are that geog- 
raphers have placed the pretended straight 
of Juan de Fuca. We saw nothing like It; 
nor Is there the least probability that ever 
any such thing existed." 

The weather was very bad and Cook not 
believing a strait to exist there, passed up 
northwest without discovering the strait. 
Had the weather been clear, Capt. Cook un- 
doubtedly would have made the discovery 
that Mearea made later. He had two vea- 
sela, the Resolution, which he commanded, 
and the Discovery, which Capt Gierke com- 

Capt. Barclay — also Berkeley— commander 
of the Imperial Eagle, which sailed from the 
Belgian port of Ostend, under the flag ot 
I he Austrian East India Co., In N'ovembw. 
1786, arrived on the PacUlc coast In June, 



1787. He sailed south in July« past Cape 
Flattery, down to 47 degrees 43 minutes* 
where he sent a crew of five men under Mil- 
lar to explore a river. The crew and Millar 
were murdered by the Indians. Prom this 
the river was called ''Destructjon River," 
now the Ohalt; but the name was afterward 
applied to the island which the Spanish had 
named, in 1775, Dolores. Hence "Destruc- 
ticMi Island." In 47 degrees 9 minutes he< 
named "Point Fear." 

John Meares, another Einglish navigator, 
sailed from China to the Philippine islands, 
touched at the Sandwich Islands, thence to 
Nootka, and on June 30, 1788, entered the 
strait which he named "Strait of Juan de 
Fnca." In his "Voyages" we find this rec- 
ord: "From the mast-head it was observed 
to stretch to the east by north, and a clear 
and unbounded horizon was seen in this 
direction as far as the eye could reach. We 
frequently sounded, but could procure no 
ground with one l^undred fathoms of line. 
Tlie strongest curiosity impelled us to enter 
the strait, which we shall call by the name 
<rf its original discoverer, John de Fuca." 

Meares passed out of the strait again, dis- 
covered and named "Tatoosh Island," from 
Chief Tatooche, sighted Cape Flattery, and 
sailed south, discovering and naming "Sad- 
dle Hill" from its appearance of a saddle. 

On July 4 he saw a mountain which he 
named "Mt. Olympus," from its conspicuous 
situation. He then sailed further south to 
a point which he named "Low Point." The 
bay he named "Shoalwater Bay," now WiU- 
apa Harbor, and the cape, "Shoal Cape." On 
July 6 he named "Cape Disappointment" and 
"Deception Bay" on account of his not find- 
ing a harbor nor a river there. He was 
looking for the St. Roque River, which 
Heceta claimed to have discovered. He still 
continued south and named '^Quicksand 
Bay," "Cape Lookout" and three rocks the 
"Three Brothers." 

John Meares took possession of the strait 
oi Juan de Fuca in the name of the King 
of England, claiming to have re-discovered 
this strait Hence England's claim to the 
northwest coast. 

In this same year in which Meares arrived 
on the northwest coast, the first American 
fur-trading expedition to the northern Pa- 
cific was fitted out by a company of six Bos- 
ton merchants. 

John Kendrlk commanded the Columbia 
Redlviva, and Robert Gray commanded the 
sloop Lady Washington. Robert Haswell 
was second mate on the Lady Washington, 
JoMfA Ingraham was second mate on the 
Ccrfombia. Howe was Kendrik's clerk, Rob- 

erts was surgeon, Freet was the furrier, and 
Nuthin the astronomer. 

August 2, 1788 Capt. Gray first saw the 
shores of New Albany in latitude 41 degrees 
28 minutes. A little later they entered an 
inlet where Gray sent Lopez and some of 
the crew on shore to explore. Lopez and 
several men were killed by the Indians, so 
Gray named this harbor "Murderer's Har- 
bor." He then proceeded north to find that 
strait that every explorer was looking for. 
Haswell writes: "I am of the opinion that 
the strait of Juan de BMca exists, though 
Capt. Cook positively asserts that it does 
not; for in the very latitude where it is 
said to lie, the coast takes a bend which 
very probably may be the entrance." 

This part of his diary shows that they saw 
the entrance to the strait, but not having 
much faith in its existence there, passed by 
and did not enter it. 

Capt Gray again visited the coast in 1792 
when he discovered and named "Gray's Har- 
bor," in latitude 46 degrees 58 minutes, but 
called it at first "Bullfinch Harbor." 

May 11, 1792, the "Columbia River" was 
entered for the first time, and so named by 
Capt Gray, from his vessel, the Columbia. 
The northern point was named "Cape Han- 
cock," the southern, "Point Adams." 

May 31, 1790, the Spanish again became 
interested in this coast and Eliza sent the 
Princessa Real, under Alferez QUimper, to 
explore the strait of Juan de Fuca. Quimper 
explored the strait proper and named the 
widening farther east "Senor de Santa 
Rosa." He discovered the main northern 
channel and named it in honor of his sail- 
ing master, "Canal de Lopez de Haro." Part 
of that name has been dropped and it is now 
called "Canal de Haro." He also named for 
himself "Squim Bay." He surveyed Port 
Discovery, which he named "Bodega de 
Quadra." -He named the mouth of the south 
passage "Ensenada de Caamano." He sent 
some of his men northward in boats. They 
discovered a secondary northern channel, 
which he named "Boca de f^algo," now 
Rosario Strait. On August 1 he took posses- 
sion of Port Nunez Gavona." now "Neah 

Eliza, commanding the Conception, named 
"San Juan," "Guemes," "Tejada Island" and 
"Port Los Angeles." 

With two vessels, the Discovery and the 
Chatham, fitted out by England, George Van- 
couver was sent to explore the New Albion. 
George Vancouver was captain of the Dis- 
covery; his lieutenants were Zachariah 
Mudge, Peter Puget and Joseph Baker, and 
the master was Joseph Whidbey. The crew 



of the Discovery included one hundred men. 
The commander of the Chatham was Lieut 
W. R. Broughton. He had with him Lieut 
James Hanson and Master James Johnstone. 
The crew of the Chatham included forty-five 

Vancouver set sail from Falmouth, ETng- 
land, on April 1, 1791, and sailed around 
Cape of Good Hope to the Sandwich islands. 
He left the Sandwich Islands March 
18, 1792, and sighted the west coast of 
the United States in Latitude 39 degrees 27 
minutes; longitude 235 degrees 41 minuter 
45 seconds on April 27, 1792. He passed 
right by the mouth of the Columbia river, 
not supposing it to be a river. He continued 
north, noticing the forests all along the 
coast He saw ShoeUwater bay, which he 
knew Meares had formerly discovered and 
named. Continuing further north, he arrived 
at a point in latitude 47 degrees 22 minutes, 
which he named "Point Grenville," in honor 
of Right Honorable Lord GrenviUe. Ou 
April 29 he sighted a vessel which proved to 
be the Columbia, with Robert Gray as cap- 
tain. He named "Rock Duncan," in honor 
of Mr. Duncan, who discovered it April 
20 he proceeded down the strait of Juan de 
Fuca to a low, sandy point of land, which, 
from its resemblance to Dungeness in the 
British channel, he named "New Dungeness.'* 
While there the third lieutenant on board the 
Discovery discovered a mountain, which Van- 
couver named "Mt. Baker," in honor of this 
lieutenant Baker. 

The ships were anchored at New Dun- 
geness May 1, 1792» and Mr. Whidbey was 
sent in a cutter to sound and search for 
fresh water. The Chatham's cutter, with 
the Discovery's yawl and cutter, were order- 
ed to be armed and supplied with a day's 
provisions, for examining the two apparent 
openings nearest to them. 

On May 2 they discovered a stream of 
fresh water, which Vancouver named "Port 
Discovery," after his ship. At the entrance 
to this body of water, he discovered an 
island and named it "Protection Island," be- 
cause it protected the entrance from the 
northwest winds. On May 7 the Discovery's 
yawl and launch, and the Chatham's cutter, 
were properly armed and supplied with pro- 
visions for five days. Mr. Broughton had 
charge of ships, Mr. Whldbcy had charge of 
observatory and encampment, Mr. Menzies, 
with two young gentlemen, accompanied Mr. 
Vancouver in the yawl, Mr. Puget command- 
ed the launch, ai^d Mr. Johnstone com- 
manded the Chatham's cutter. They were 
now ready to explore the different inlets. 

They discovered and named "Port Town- 
sbend," in honor of the Marquis of that 

name. The "h" has since been dropped. 
They discovered a point of land, which waa 
formed of clay or marrow-stone, and, there- 
fore, named it "Marrow-stone Point" Then 
a long range of mountains was sighted, with 
Mt. Baker at the north and another vast 
dome at the south. This dome Vancouver 
named "Mt. Rainier,'* May 7, 1792, in honor 
of Rear Admiral Rainier. On May 9, they 
came to a cove surrounded by oak trees and 
named it "Oak Cove." May 10 they named 
"Foulweather Bluff." on account of the 
weather they experienced. They came to 
another point covered with hazel trees and 
named it "Hazel Point" 

Proceeding up the west arm of this body 
of water, Vancouver named it "Hood's 
Canal," after Right Honorable Lord Hood. 
They went back down Hood's canal and ex- 
plored the east arm of this body of water. 
Vancouver arrived opposite what is now 
Seattle and from this anchorage sent out 
other small boats. While exploring, Mr. 
Orchard discovered an enclosed bay, which 
Vancouver named "Port Orchard," in honor 
of this man's discovery. He also named 
"Restoration Point." which is now Bean's 
Point, and "Vashon Island," after his friend. 
Captain Vashon, of the navy. 

Peter Puget was most active in exploring 
the inlets of Puget sound, and Vancouver 
named this body of water "Puget Sound," 
to commemorate Mr. Puget's exertions In 
these explorations. In June, 1792, Vancon 
ver named "Penn's Cove," and "Admiralty 
Inlet," in honor of the admiralty. 

June 4 was the birthday of. George HI. of 
EiUgland, and on that day, Vancouver took 
possession of this territory for Bngland, and 
named it "New Georgia," in honor of the 
king. That place on which he took the pos- 
session is now ETverett. He further com- 
memorated the day by naming the bay "The 
Gulf of Georgia," and the inlet leading to it 
"Possession Sound." He also named 'Tort 
Gardner." after Vice-Admiral Sir Alan Gard- 
ner, and "Port Susan," after his sweetheart. 

Continuing north June 6, he discovered and 
named "Point Partridge," and "Point Wil- 
son," after his friend, Capt George Wilson 
of the navy. 

Broughton discovered a bay where there 
were a number of strawberries. This Van- 
couver named "Strawberry Bay." There 
they discovered an island having a growth of 
cypress trees. This Vancouver named "Cy- 
press Island." On June 10, while Mr. Whid- 
bey was exploring, he circumnavigated an 
island which Vancouver named "Whidbey 
Island," in honor of Mr. Whidbey's discor- 
ery. The northern pass he named "Decep- 
tion Passage," as he had not expected to find 



a waterway there. On June 12 he named 
"Point Roberts/' after his esteemed friend, 
Mr. Roberts, and "Point Grey." in honor of 
Capt. George Grey, of the navy. June 14 
he nantod "Burrard's Canal/' in honor of Sir 
Henry Burrard, of the nasSf On October 20 
he saw and named "Mt. St Helens," in honor 
of his Britannic Majesty's Ambassador at 
the court^of Madrid. In Decenibef he named 
Spit Bank, Tongue Point, Point George, and 
Gray's Bay. 

We are indebted to the United States ex- 
ploring expedition of 1838-1842, under 
Charles Wilkes, for a number of names. On 
May 7, 1840, he named "Port Lawrence," 
at the entrance to Hood's Canal. May 8 
he named "Pilot's Cove/' at the south end of 
Whidbey's Island, on account of being here 
Joined by a pilot sent him by the Hudson 
Bay Company. A short distance from there 
he named "Appletree Cove," from the num- 
ber of apple trees there. May 9 "Port Madi- 
son" was surveyed and named in honor of 
President Madison. May 15 he named " Com- 
mencement Bay/' because here surveys were 
to begin. 

Wilkes named "Elliott Bay," in honor of 
Comipodore Eniiott; "Waldron Island." in 
hono^of Lieut Waldron of his expedition; 
Toint Ringgold," in honor of Ueut. Ringgold 
of his expedition; "Maury Island/' in honor 
of Lieut Maury; "Point-no-Polnt" "Port 
Gunble." "Quartermaster Harbor." "Budd's 
Inlet," in honor of Lieut. Budd of his expe- 
dition; "Case's Inlet," in honor of Lieut. 
Case of his expedition; "^g Harbor." and 
'^lake Island" and "Blakeley Island" aftei 
his shipmates. 

A great many of Washington names are of 
Indian derivation. Some of those of western 
Washington are "Osceola," from an Indian 
cliief; "Olequa/' Indian name; "Puyallup," 
Indian name for shadow or gloom; "Quin- 
anlt R. and Co.," from Indian tribe; "Seat- 
tle," from a friendly chief; "Skagit," Indian 
name meaning wild cat; "Skohomish or 
Skyhomish/' Indian name for "river people;" 
"Skookum Bay." from Indian word meaning 
"strong." on account of the strong tides; 
"Snoqualmie," Indian chief; "Steilacoom," 
Indian chief; "Tacoma," Indian word for 
white mountain;" "Tumwater," Indian name 
for "falling water;" "Wahkiakum County/' . 
Indian for "large, tall trees;" "Whatcom," 
Indiui^ for "noisy water," on account of the 





falls; "Humptulips," Indian for "hard-to- 
pole" up stream; "Chinook." Indian 
tribe; "Tulalip." Indian tribe; "CathU- 
ment," from Indian word meaning 
"stone;" "Chehalis," Indian for "sand," 
because of the sandy mouth of the river; 
"Chico," Indian-for little';" "Clallam," Indian 
from "clam-man," meaning "strong people; 
"Cowlitz," from Indian tribe; "Duwamlsh, 
from Indian tribe; "Hoqulam," Indian for 
"wood-destroyer," because the cedar logs 
dam up the river there; "Kalama," Indian 
name; "Kitsap," from the Indian named Kit- 
sap, who killed Col. Slaughter; "Lummi," 
Indian tribe; "Neah Bay/' from Indian tribe; 
"NIsqually," Indian tribe; "Nooksack," In- 
dian tribe; "Alki Point," from Indian, mean- 
ing "by-and-by." 

Other names are "Madrono," from the 
Madrona trees there; "Meeker/' named in 
honor of "Hop-king Meeker;" Eldorado," 
Spanish for "land of gold;" "Axeford," from 
a settler by that name; "Port Angeles, 
named by Spaniards for "Angel's Port; 
"WoolFey," named in honor of its founder; 
"Lowell," for J. R. Lowell; /'Sallal Prairie," 
named from the sallal berries. 

"Cosmopolls" means "universe city." "Bat- 
tle-ground" was the scene of an Indian fight 
"Custer" was named for Gen. Custer. "Car- 
bonado" means "coal-place." "Carr's Inlet" 
was named after an explorer by that name. 
"Lewis County" and "Clarke County" were 
named after their explorers, Lewis and 
Clarke. Fox Island was named for a settler; 
"Fi-emont*' fn honor of Gen. J. C. Fremont; 
"Friday Harbor" because it was discovered 
on Good Friday, and "Pierce County" in hon- 
or of President Pierce. 

"La Conner" was named from Louisa Ag- 
nes Conner; hence L. A. Conner, then La 
Conner. "La Push" means the mouth. 
"Mount Vernon" was named after Washing- 
ton's home in Virginia. "Aberdeen" was 
named after Aberdeen, Scotland. "Auburn" 
from the English "old book." "Bainbridge 
Island," after U. S. brig Bainbridge. "Bal- 
lard," from name of a settler. "Black 
Diamond," from the coal; "Blaine," in honor 
of James G. Blaine, and "Boston," because 
all Americans were called Bostons by the 
Indians. "Bucoda" was named by taking the 
first two letters of owners' names— Buckley, 
Coulter and Davis. 

Seattle, Washington. 

< . 1 

Sage Brush Remmiscences 

Bt Hon. Miubs Cannon. 

The Sonnyside country, generally known 
M the "baaana belt" of Yakima County, was 
not always so prosperous as now. I moyed 
Into this country hi the spring of '94 (just 
as the great panic was getting ripe), at the 
earnest solicitation 6t one ot the most per- 
nicious real estate men that it has ever been 
my good fortune to meet. His battle cry 
was, "Ten acres is enough." His numerous 
Tictims were unkind enough to intimate that 
this was the only truthful statement this gen- 
tleman erer made. He succeeded in con- 
Tlndng me that the shifting sandis of that 
oountry were especially adapted to the grow- 
ing <^ fortunes, so I purchased a ten-acre 

It was not long before I concluded that it 
was cheaper to aUoW the winds to level the 
sand than to hire it leveled at so much per 
yard, and concluded to engage in the mer- 
cantile business pending the completion of 
this interesting operation by the wind- A 
great many of the settlers appeared to be of 
the same mind as myself, but, instead of en- 
gaging' in business pursuits, they sojourned 
to various parts' of the world, awaiting the 
developments in these beautiful regions^ Of 
ocmrse, when the settlers began to leave the 
valley it was rather hard on my mercantile 
emporium, as it should not be forgotten that 
I had a very large and well-assorted stock of 
goods worth at least $500, and, to make mat- 
ters more embarrassing, my liabilities were 
almost as extensive, if not so valuable. 

The winds continued to blow and the Wil- 
son '*tarifF for revenue only" law continued 
U> get in its work, settlers continued to leave, 
trade continued to grow less, the days darker 
and prospects more discouraging, until it 
dawned upoAi my mind that in order to save 
a tremendous business failure, which might 
possibly disturb the already shattered busi- 
ness conditions of the country, I had best 
dispose of my entire stock. This idea was 
re-inforced when the "ten-acre real estate 
man" at last silently folded his tent and 
stole away. 

It is said that therp is always a man to 

Note. — "Sage Brush Reminlscenses" is com- 
posed of extracts taken from an 'address deliy- 
ared by Hon. Miles Cannon, one of North Yakima's 
prominent citlsens, at the Sunnyside Fair, held 
October 17, 1901, at Sunnyside, Washington. Mr. 
Cannon is one of Yakima county's most enter- 
prising citizens, and Is numbered among the 
popular leaders In ptkblic affairs in that part of 
the state. This article has the jovial, whole- 
•ouled. Western spirit of the kind of people who 
hare pioneered in the State of Washington, and 
it is with pleasure that it is presented to The 
Coast's circle of readers. — The Editor. 

meet every emergency which might rise in 
this great and glorious country of ours. 
Surely there was. in this case. 4bout this 
time a gentleman in Chicago by the name of 
Kohn, who, I think, was an Irishman, con- 
cluded that in order to be happy it would be 
necessary for him to have a business location 
in the town of Sunnyside. It is very pleas- 
ing to reflect that Mr. Kohn was so anxious 
to purchase this business that he took the 
matter up by wire, reserving the right, how- 
ever, to inspect tlie sales for at least one 
day before the deal should be finally closed. 
Of course, as I only wanted to be square 
with Mr. Kohn I consented and extended 
to him the glad-hand of fellowship on the 
night of his arrival and accordingly invited 
him to witness the "rush" the following 

Now, there Is one thing about the people 
of Sunnyside — they stand by their friends — 
and, from some cause which I have never 
been able to explain, there was a great de- 
mand for goods that day. In fact, it is my 
candid opinion that every one of the seven- 
teen remaining families in that vicinity made 
a purchase of some kind or other. Prices 
were good and as I sold a suit of clothes to 
one of my bosom friends at a price well in- 
tended to suit the most avaricious mer- 
chant, Mr. Kohn tapped me on the shoulder 
and said that that was enough, as he desired 
to close the deal. Long will my memory retain 
the pleasure of that evening, as our cus- 
tomers gathered in to ''return" anything that 
did not give them "entire satisfaction" and 
congratulate me upon my good fortune. 

Right here I want to relate an incident 
that impressed itself on my mind. The 
bosom friend referred to, one Dollarhlde by 
name, who purchased the suit of "English 
tweed" clothes at $30 (when they could have 
been purchased for $15 in Chicago or most 
any other sea port) — as Mr. Kohn himself 
admitted, the purchase which so completely 
satisfied the Chicago man and prompted him 
to close the deal at once — neglected to bring 
them back that night and, in fact, he has 
not returned them even to this day. Maybe 
he has forgotten it by this time. This was 
the only case of mis-placed confidence which 
has ever come to my notice in the Sunnyside 

Mr. Dollarhide now resides in the web-foot 
state of Oregon and is following the lucra- 
tive occupation of preaching. I have heard 
from him, however. I wrote him a very 



friendly letter one day and told him I was 
glad to know that he had gone to preaching 
and that I sincerely hoped he had conquered 
his appetite for strong drink, and wound up 
a very cordial letter by expressing the hope 
that his "clothes fit him" and that he would 
remember me in his prayers. He replied to 
the effect that he w&s pleased to say that 
he had entirely subdued his appetite for 
drink and that he had often prayed for me, 
but. he went on to say, "If it is the payment 
for that suit of 'English tweed' clothes you 
refer to (he had the audacity to underscore 
the words 'Ehiglish tweed') I may as well 
say first as last that you will never get a 
cent, for, in my humble opinion, I earned 
that suit." 

I wrote him another letter, which, while 
not so cordial, was much more concise. I 
said, "Rev. Mr. Dollarhide, if I ever get my 
hands on you again, your d — n hide will not 
be worth two-bits." Having never got my 
hands on the gentleman I presume his hide 
is still quoted at the current price. 

Somehow things did not go well with 
friend Kohn and he confided in one of his 
customers one time that his sales had not 
averaged $5 per day since he had taken 
charge. Finally, one day, he invited me to 
come into his store, and, said he: 

"Mr. Cannon, I want to ask you a ques- 
tion." I replied: 

"All right, Mr. Kohn, as I have always 
been honest with you heretofore I see no 
reason why I should not give you an honest 
answer now." 

I was somewhat alarmed for I noticed a 
slight tremor in his voice, very little color 
in his face and a kind of a nervous twitching 
at the comers of his mouth. He said: 

"The day I inspected your sales they 
amounted to something like $75 but sfnce 
that time they have not amounted to' $5, 
even the best day I have ever had. Now, 
I want to know, Mr. Cannon, if you can ex- 
plain that." 

"I immediately assumed an attitude of 
deep meditation and would have perhaps 
been satisfied to have remained in that posi- 
tion even to this time had I not noticed the 
twitching growing more and more pronounc- 
ed. Finally, I ventured the suggestion that 
the Cleveland administration might have 
had something to do with it That confer- 
ence ended right there. 

In spite of all my good advice Mr. Kohn 
went from bad to worse until one morning 
myself and several associates were congre- 
gated at the blacksmith's shop across the 
street discussing the very lively and inter- 
esting subject of "free and unlimited coinage 
of silver," when we observed that Mr. Kohn 

had loaded the entire stock of goods, includ- 
ing bed and baggage, on a couple of drays 
and was headed for parts to us unknown. 

As the leader of our council was illustrat- 
ing the parity feature of this deep mooted 
question by comparing the time checks of 
the busted ditch company with the Mezieair 
dollar, we noticed Mr. Kohn starting to- 
wards us for the purpose, as we presumed, 
of bidding us an affectionate farewell. Mrs. 
Kohn also noticed his movements and 
seemed to be somewhat alarmed as she in- 
quired where he was going. He said: 

"I am going across the street to thrash the 
devil out of the biggest liar in the state of 

Eivery mother's son ot us hit for the sage 
brush and even to this day there is a dispute 
among us as to who was entitled to the 
benefit of Mr. Kohn's complimentary re- 
marks, but as the parity man ran the fastest 
and the farthest we finally, by mutual con- 
sent, awarded him the prize. 

It reminds me of an incident that happened 
in Seattle not long ago. A workman was on 
top of a high building repairing a flue when 
he accidentally dropped a brick into the 
street below. Fearing that it might strike 
some one he jokingly called aloud: 

"Look out, you grafter." and it is related 
that every man on the street looked up. 
But those good days have passed and gone. 

From all indications it would appear that 
as soon as Mr. Kohn and myself left the 
Sunnyside country it began to grow and to- 
day you have one of the most prosperous 
communities on the Pacific coast It is des- 
tined to be a most productive strip of coun- 
try and will in time be noted all over this 
country for its beautiful homes and produc- 
tive farms. 

The tempests may blow and the storms 
rage over the sea of commerce and strew 
the Shores of Time with the wrecks of 
accumulated fortunes, but it can not reach 
you here. With your ideal climate and your 
unsurpassed soil watered by those eternal 
domes of snow, under the protection of those 
mighty walls of granite, you know that when 
you sow you shall also reap. 

If you will go home tonight and pass a 
resolution that you have moved for the last 
time; that this valley will be your abiding 
place until your restless feet shall have car- 
ried you into the gloom of the night; plant 
trees and beautify your homes, you will find 
that the sun will shine brighter, the crops 
grow faster and the birds sing sweeter than 
ever before. Do this, I say, and that feeling 
of peace and contentment, the choicest of all 
God's blessings, will be your reward. 

Norih Yakima, Wa^hiiigton. 

m Ulay of Cift 

Where rolls the surging tide. 

Or where the freshet currents leap; 
Where rippling waters glide. 

Or placid depths in grandeur sweep; 
Along a friendless shore, 

Where rocky bluffs beat back the soul. 
Or leafy bowers hang o'er 

To cheer us to our distant goal, 
Our boat will take its pathless way, 
As we direct it day by day. 

When we have scaled the heights, — 

Though seemingly we toiled in vain, — 
For all our lost delights, 

The worry, labor, care and pain. 
The recompense is great : — 

Far in the future we behold 
A worn trail leading straight 
To fairest joys of purest gold 
And praise the faith, which led the way. 
And gave us hope day after day. 

—February 5, 1903. 



Butb TlMon. XV.— The Note Case. XVI,— A 
■mall amouDt of trultbearlog. XVII.— Mkbael 
Sean la ^ren a room at Mri. Ctoud'a hoaae. Tbe 
ruab of Blancbe to i^mmlt aolclde. The voice ol 
the HIghtT Power. XVIII — The pathway ot love. 
D«acrlptloD Mt. Rainier. XIX — foncerrilpE the 
practice oC law. Blanche Mattersoo working in h 
restaurant. XX— Mrs. Clond allows Michael Sears 
to remalD at her home, Mra, Cioad triee to keep 

of Michael Seara aad the tbeatre eplaode- 

On CbrlBtmnB monilnK, Michael Sears was 

thrilled with great pleasure to find at bis 
door a large box upoa which waa plntied a 
card with the worde: 

"Fram Lizxle and her Mamma to 
Michael Sears, 
With fondest greetings of the season." 
Upon taking off the lid, be was astojilsfaed 
to Und a beautiful set of "Modern Autbora" 
mound In full -Morocco. His heart arose 
within him as he beheld the rich and valu- 
able gift. He thought, "What can I, a poor, 
struggling lawyer, give her In return?" In 
the Qush ot the emotions within him with & 
flaming Impulse he sat down and wrote: 

At Christmas year's love-labor ends — 
Friend then holds tellowship with friends; 
The soul of care with woe that fled, 
Returns with smiles to pleasure wed; 
The heart in selfishness grown cold, 
Is warmed to giving many-fold; 
And midst the blaze of Joy and light, 
The darkest soul Is beiunlng bright. 
At Christmas time papa employs 
Himself In buying baby toys; 
Mama, with mother-love entreats. 
And plans the Cbrletmas gifts and sweeto; 
The children slyly scheme surprise 
For Cbrlstmas morn for parents' eyes;' 
Love clasps the home in warm embrace 
And pictures Joy upcM) each face. 
On Christmas day the spirit glows 
With brightest glory mortal knows; 
Oifts tetl that man remembers man; 
The poorest heart gives what it can; 
' Goodwill and peace with love to all 

Forgotten ones to mind recall; 
. Delights, glad songs and laughter gay 
Are kjiown to all on Christmas day. 
On Christmas night, when 'round the trea. 
The family circle gathered be. 
And from each branch with tinsel bright, 
A twinkling candle sheds Its light. 

Thla atorT began In the September namber. 



The Boul, while heart with love o'erflows, 
Swells into joy which brightly glows — 
Then, gazing on the fading sight, 
Retnm.s to toil — on Christmas night. 

As Michael Sears came down the stairs 
Ldzzie rushed out and cried gleefully: 

"Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!" 

'*Merry Christmas, darling!" replied Mich- 
ael, gathering her up into his arms and kiss- 
ing her. As. Mrs. Cloud came up through 
the door he exclaimed: 

**Oh, Mrs. Cloud! How can I ever show 
you my full appreciation of your great gift, 
which I found this morning at my door! I 
wish you a merry, merry Christmas, and 
many of them. I only feel miserable that 
I cannot return you a present as precious 
and valuable as the one you gave me. I — " 

"Now, Mr. Sears," she broke in, "It was 
Lizzie's doings, and you mustn't think of 
that! She wasn't satisfied until I did it!" 

"Come! Come and see my presents!" 
the little one burst out, as she took hold of 
Sears' hand and dragged him into the other 

"Beautiful! Beautiful!" exclaimed he as 
she took everything up and showed it to 
him — dolls, dresses, cribs, baby carriages, 
books, a cunning diamond ring, a bright 
gold watch and long chain, a delicate brace- 
let, candies, nuts and a host of things!" 

"And, Mr. Sears," spoke Mrs. Cloud, when 
he started to go down town, ''Lizzie expects 
you to spend the afternoon with her and 
dine with us; now, don't you fail to be 

"Thank you! Thank you!" replied Mich- 
ael Sears, his throat choking with emotion 
of gratitude and delight at the warmth of 
her invitation. 

Shortly after he had read the paper at the 
office, the expressman brought him several 
small bundles and a large flat package. The 
smaller ones were from his mother, father 
and sisters, their tokens of their love for 
him. Opening the large package, he was 
amazed to find a life-size portrait of Ruth 
Tildon. In a tiny envelope, which fell to the 
floor when he opened the wrapping, was the 
following letter: 

"Dear loved one: 

I send you a picture of myself. I cannot 
come to you, so I send my likeness. A mer- 
ry, merry Christmas to you and a happy, 
happy New Year. A kiss is for you on the 
picture's lips. 

Your loving Ruth.' 

Taking up the canvas In his hands, and 
looking into the eyes of the portrait, he 
placed it to his lips and kissed it, while 
bis heart went out to the heart far, far away 


on the eastern coast« at Boston. "I love 
her! Ah, I love her!" his panting soul 
cried out, as he placed the picture on his 
desk and sat before it gazing intently at it. 
He had sent to her a new photograph of 
himself; but, the kiss! He had not thought 
of the kiss! 

After dreaming for some time, and wor- 
shipping at the shrine of his heart's love, he 
went out and purchased for Lizzie a beau- 
tiful book and copied the poem which he had 
written into it. He then left for Mrs. 
Cloud's. The warm hand-clasp with which 
he was greeted at the door, and its lingering 
pressure, while Mrs. Cloud gazed into his 
eyes, thrilled him. The pleasure of Lizzie 
with her book and his poem cheered his 
heart. The charming elegance and winning 
grace of Mrs. Cloud fllled his heart with 
tingling emotions. The grand dinner and 
the evening of song and laughter was a 
glorious memory. The delicate perfume of 
the cut flowers delighted him. The peace, 
joy and happiness of the company around 
the flre-side — for Mrs. Scratcher and James 
were there — ^was an entrancing recollection. 
Amidst a host of wild fancies and emotions, 
Michael Sears lay his head upon the pillow 
that night. 

"Jinnie," said Mother Scratcher to her 
daughter, when the evening had gotten late, 
and she was putting on her things to go; 
"Jinnie, th' roomer's a moighty foine lad, 
an' 01 loikes th' face av 'im. Be a mahkln' 
th' ketch, Jinnie!" 

"But, mother, he is so much younger than 
me!" answered Mrs. Cloud. 

"Och, away wid ye! Ye'U be th' mahkin' 
av 'im: 'E's uh lawyur an' ye maught niv- 
ver rigrit thaut ye hed hem; fur it'll be 
many th' toime 'e'll pertlct yer prohpurtee. 
An' he's ez sober ez a jedge! Hauld hem, 
Jinnie! Hauld hem! Yer mammy ez know- 
in' th' bist fur ye! 'E's a loikely bye! 
Hauld hem!" expostulated the old lady. 

"I hope you've had a fine time, mother?" 
broke in Mrs. Cloud. 

"Ah, Jinnie! Bt be always th' plisure an' 
joy uv me heart tu cum oop t' yer hause! 
Coom on Jimmie, we musht be a goin'. 
Gude-boy, Lizzie! Gude-nolght!" 

"A kiss, grandma!" cried Lizzie, running 
after her, and catching her on the porch, 
when, after kissing Lizzie, Mother Scratch- 
er and her son James went home. 

With the beginning of the new year the 
political parties in the city of Seattle began 
to cast around for candidates for the spe- 
cial election of mayor. The regularly elected 
man to flU that position, having taken the 
gold fever, had resigned to go North after 



gold. The party in control, the Ins, had been 
giving an honest, prosperous administration, 
and the Outs had very little hopes of win- 
ning in the contest. However, through the 
advice of a cunning, shiftless, mercenary ad- 
venturer, who longed for notoriety, the Outs 
were persuaded to make a fight against the 
Ins with their battle cry and platform being, 
"Out with the gambling and bawdy houses 
and close the saloons from ten to six!" This 
was a strong position, it seemed, as every- 
thing in the city, good, bad and indifferent, 
was running full blast and wide open, day 
and night. 

In the selection of party managers, howev- 
er, the Outs chose a gambler for chairman 
of the campaign committee, and picked on 
an ex-saloon keeper for chief of police, 
should they be successful; and they nomi- 
nated a single-idea, anarchist for mayor, 
who was a close personal friend and under 
the control and influence of the gambling 

Thus fixed out in battle array, they went 
to the church people of the city to solicit 
their support on the grounds of their battle- 
cry and the fact that their candidate was a 
member of the church. Many ministers and 
church organizations fell right into 
line with the scheme and from the 
pulpits and in church gatherings was 
heard, to the exclusion of all else, 
nothing but politics and the awful moral 
degradation of the Ins who were running 
the city's affairs. In the church where 
Michael Sears was superintendent, however, 
the people held back, awaiting to see what 
the Ins would do in their selection of a candi- 
date, before taking any definite action. The 
preacher spoke from the pulpit, however, 
against the evils of the hour and pictured in 
most horrible colors the frightful way in 
which the city's affairs were being con- 
ducted. Some of the people of this church 
knew the men managing the Outs and were 
not exactly satisfied with them. 

Michael Sears was an In and among the 
party's workers. During the primaries a hot 
fight was made against the persons in con- 
trol of the party's affairs by the church peo- 
ple, but the fight came to naught because of 
poor leadership and lack of proper workers. 
Later, when the convention was held, by an 
overwhelming majority the faction of the Ins 
already in control of the city's offices, nomi- 
nated their choice for mayor. 

In the platform, however, was the decla- 
ration that the party stood pledged to en- 
force the laws and render to the people of 
the city an honest and faithful administra- 
tion of the city's affairs. The candidate, 
himself said, in his accepting speech: 

"I shall do all in my power to protect the 
morals and the property of the inhabitants 
of our fair city and see that law and order is 
maintained, that the good reputation of our 
municipality be kept unspotted and clean in 
the eyes of the world. Where I cannot wipe 
out iniquity, I shall endeavor to keep it un- 
der restraint; where I cannot bring law- 
breakers to justice, I shall endeavor to keep 
them under control. There are many vic- 
ious characters coming into our midst along 
with those who are good ; these I shall exert 
myself to keep under surveillance and the 
eyes of the officers of the law, and in all 
things so conduct my office for the best in- 
terests and welfare and the highest pros- 
perity of the community." 

About this time at a meeting of the church 
dignitaries, when the course of the church 
where Michael Sears was superintendent, 
was being discussed, the preacher in a 
solemn and serious manner said: 

"While we are making out our plans to fol- 
low in this campaign, there is another matter 
I have to lay before you. Our Sabbath- 
school superintendent, as you all know, is an 
In. You, no doubt, have not forgotten the 
ugly rumors which were afloat at the time 
of his re-election. Well, I have investigated 
the charges and find that they are true, ab- 
solutely true!" 

"But, Mr. Preacher," said Mr. Willing- 
worker, "do you think it advisable to bring 
that up now?" 

"It might reflect a shadow upon the 
church," suggested Dr. Chaser. 

"We must cleanse ourselves within," then 
spoke up the preacher, "before we can go 
out into the world to wage battle." 

"Gentlemen," quietly interposed an old 
lather in the church, "when the church has 
to consider her reputation in matters of con- 
duct, it seems to me, it is time to shut up the 
church and qyit." 

"And I," said another, "am afraid, if we 
weed out the tares, we will be likely to pull 
out some good wheat with them; why not 
let the Spirit do the separating at the last 
great day." 

"But this young Sears is getting too im- 
portant," said Mr. Willingworker, "and is 
becoming too hard to manage." 

"Yes," spoke up Dr. Chaser, "and he 
thinks, because of his success in the Sab- 
bath-school, that we can't get along without 

"He is rather imperious and conceited, 
brethern," suggested the preacher; "Why, 
in the paper, he only puts in what pleases 
him and has often re-written what I have 
sent in. until it loses its sense and meaning; 
really, I think we should do something to 



get this stumbling block out of our way, for 
the good of the church!'* 

"Are you sure that what you heard is 
true?" asked another member. 

"Morally certain, gentlemen!" he pro- 
foundly and deliberately announced. 

"Have you spoken to him about it?" asked 
the member further. 

"That was not necessary," exclaimed the 
preacher. ^ 

''But his work is blessed in the Sabbath- 
school, and he must be a frightful hypocrite 
if it be true!" interposed the elderly father 
speaking again. 

"I have caught him in two lies." said Mr. 
Speculator, who had been Sears' opponent 
for re-election. 

"I move you, gentlemen," spoke up the 
elderly father, "that we let this matter go 
over until we see what course he takes in 
the campaign against vice and evil." 

"He will be hypocrite enough to come out 
on our side and that will end it!" growled 
Dr. Chaser. 

"By their fruits ye shall know them," 
quoted the elderly father. 

The motion was then put and carried, 
although the preacher showed visible dis- 
satisfaction and said: 

"I fear the wisdom of this move!" 



On the Sabbath morning following the 
meeting of the board of directors, Mr. Wll- 
lingworker, and Dr. Chaser were surprised 
and elated and the preacher was astonished 
and pleased to see an article in the church 
paper which vindicated the position which 
they had taken at the board meeting in re- 
gards to Mr. Sears. Mr. Speculator, too, saw 
visions of victory arise before his eyes and 
pictured himself as superintendent in the 
place of the present incumbent. The article 
was as follows: 

"Municipal politics are now engrossing the 
attention of the citizens of Seattle as never 
before. Prior to the nominations much dis- 
satisfaction was voiced among many people 
regarding the present party in power and op- 
position developed itself and was manifested 
at the caucusses and primaries regarding 
delegates to the nominating convention. 
However, in the convention the present nom- 
inee was named as an almost unanimous 
choice. After the nomination was made a 
conference committee of all the political par- 
ties, opposing the party which nominated 
bim, met and they all united in a combina- 
tion ticket to defeat the present party in 
power. This is a concise statement of the 

prevailing state of affairs. A strenuous ef- 
fort is being made to array the church peo- 
ple in favor of one of these two opposing 
hosts. The editor of this paper believes that 
the church, as an organization, should in no 
wise officially or semi-officially ally itself to 
any party or set of men. The past history 
of the Christian church has been such that, 
when church and state united, it always re- 
sulted in the demoralization and degenera- 
tion of the spirit and usefulness of the or- 
ganization, and at the present time there is 
no reason to believe that the same result 
will not follow. It is the duty, however, of 
every member of the church to work and 
pray as an individual at all times and in all 
places in all things for the everlasting prin- 
ciples of right and Justice, tempered by the 
spirit of charity and love as given in the life 
of Jesus Christ. If the doctrine of right and 
justice, alone, prevailed in all things, no 
church member would enter the kingdom of 
heaven. The church at all times, in order to 
maintain its usefulness in the salvation of 
souls and in the spreading of the Gospel 
should take care not to be inveigled into a 
snare laid by some set of unprincipled poli- 
ticians, who ever stand ready to pollute the 
pure cleanliness of her immaculate halls for 
no other purpose than to gain the pedestal 
of fame, power and prestige for themselves. 
In the present municipal political conflict 
the editor believes that the church should 
fight the warfare of faith and become allied 
to no body of politicians. If the church dis- 
cerns one set of men as good and another 
set as bad. then are we, the members of the 
church, seeming to disobey the injunction 
of Christ, — 'Judge not that ye be not judged.' 
We should not forget that we (man) look 
upon the outward appearance, but that God 
looketh upon the heart. Yet, if any Chris- 
tian believes that it is his, or her, duty to 
work for the success of any one candidate, 
it would be stultification not to do so. But, 
the church, the great living body of our 
Risen Lord, should not be dragged into a 
conflict of the earth and for the earth. The 
church is not a temporal, or worldly, affair; 
it is an organization builded and existing for 
eternity; it is spiritual; it is holy. Let us 
work and pray for the triumph of the Gospel 
of Jesus Christ, and not the success of men." 

Mr. Willingworker, as soon as he had read 
the article, tore a piecp of paper out of a 
hymn-book and wrote a note to the preacher, 
asking him to announce the call for a board 
meeting to be held the coming Friday night, 
which notice was read from the pulpit. 

"Well, brethren," said the preacher, when 
they were called together Friday evening. 
"I suppose you gentlemen have all noticed 






that the wolf has shown himself from be- 
ueath his sheep's clothing?" 

"Ahem!" said Mr. Willlngworker, clear- 
ing his throat, "it is (ahem) Just what I 
I. ahem) expected!" and he drew his Judas- 
like face up into a heathenish scowl. 

"I think." said Mr. Speculator, "that it is 
now time that we take steps to discipline the 
brother Sears." 

"Or appoint some one to look after him, 
who has arrived at the age of discretion!" 
suggested Dr. Chaser. 

"Some," spoke up the elderly member with 
gray whiskers, "read the article for an In 
editorial, while others read it for an Out. 
Now, for my part, I don*t see an3^ing so bad 
about it — only, that it is cleverly written." 

"That's the trouble!" broke in the preach- 
er; "it is neither for nor against — it carries 
water on both shoulders and discloses the 
writer's hypocrisy. The Bible says, 'Who is 
not for me is against me.' In this election 
we are fighting the trinity of evil. There 
is no middle ground. For, or against, drunk- 
enness, licentiousness and gambling, is the 
issue as plain as the nose on a man's face." 

"Now," slowly said a member on the back 
seat, "I think that this would be a very poor 
time to make a fight on Mr. Sears. If we 
do that, it will only give strength to the 
enemy. I propose that we appoint Dr. 
Chaser to look after what goes in the paper 
and that we drop the matter for the time be- 
ing, until the election is over." 

"I think .(cough) that would (cough) be 
a good plan," said Dr. Chaser. 

"We might as well meet the issue now, as 
later on, gentlemen," urged the preacher, "I 
don't see how we can get along satisfac- 
torily, with Mr. Sears having anything to do 
with the paper at all." 

"Reverend," said one of the men at this 
point, "we've had one fight in this church 
and I think we ought to do all that we could 
to keep peace in the family and get to work 
to raise money to pay off our church debt; 
il seems to me, that Mr. Sears has a great 
many friends in the church, who would 
cease their support, if we act too hastily." 

"What do I hear from the rest?" asked 
the preacher, looking around. 

The motion was then made and carried 
that Dr. Chaser be appointed to look after 
what went into the paper and to write an 
article placing the church on the side 
against the Ins. 

Going to the print-shop Friday morning, 
Mr. Sears was handed a paper by the fore- 
man, who said : 

"This was brought in by Dr. Chaser; he 
said it had to go in just as it was written 

and that he would be in to-morrow to read 
the proof." 
The article was: 

"Next Tuesday we shall elect a mayor, 
who will manage the affairs of our city for 
the next two years. The distinctions are 
clearly defined. On one hand we are prom- 
ised the continuance of the 'wide open' 
policy — when gambling, prostitution and 
illegal liquor selling may go on virtually 
under the sanction of the city authorities. 
On the other hand we are promised that 
there shall be an honest and faithful en- 
deavor to enforce the existing laws and city 
ordinances of every kind, without favor and 
without running into extremes and fanat- 
icism. With issues so clearly defined be- 
tween morality and immorality, between 
good government and license, every member 
of society, who has the best interests of his 
city at heart, can not hesitate as to the posi- 
tion he should take in the matter." 

That evening Michael Sears saw Dr. 
Chaser, who posed before the public as an 
In, and said to him: 

"I found an article at the printer's which 
you had sent in; I suppose you have no ob- 
jections to your name going at the bottom 
of it?" 

"No. sir!" he retorted, "I won't allow 

"Then you can't use my name as editor 
Doctor, to get it to the public! I don't be- 
lieve what the article says." 

"Mr. Sears," then spoke up the Doctor, 
"let me give you a little advice — you don't 
need a brick house to fall on you. The 
board has appointed me to look after the 
paper and see to what goes in — there is a 
good deal of comment over the unjustifiable 
article you published in the last issue. Mr. 
Willlngworker and I had a hard time keep- 
ing a severe arraignment out of the daily 
paper representing the Outs, which criticised 
cur church in no genteel terms for not com- 
ing out on the moral side in the present 
municipal campaign and for printing in our 
paper such an article as yours favoring the 

"Thank you. Doctor," replied Mr. Sears; 
"I am very glad you are going to take charge 
of the paper; it is no e^sy task to please 

"Oh!" the Doctor then broke in, "you're 
to be the editor, Mr. Sears, only I am to 
say what goes in the paper of an editcnrial 
character — in order that we may avoid 
shoals in the future!" 

"Well, Doctor." said Mr. Sears, with his 
mind in a peculiarly confused condition as 
to his real status in relation to the paper. 


"If the article you left for pubUcatioD is 
signed I will print It; only. I as editor, will 
not father it as It is!'' 

The preacher bavlog overbeard the latter 
part of tbe conversation came up to ask 
wbat the dIscusfiloD was about. When he 
uas told he exclaimed, 'Just sign THE 
BOARD' to it:" and In that shape tbe article 
which had been prepared by Dr. Chaser was 
published and appeared on the following 

The next week came the election, when 
the Outs were defeated by an overwhelming 
majority, the Ins hsving Increased their ma- 
jority over .that In the previous election by 
almost one thousand votes. 

An article was slyly slipped to the printer 
a few days after the election for the next 
issue of the paper In whicli tbe writer said, 
"The trinity of wlckedneea won out in the 
recent election because weak-kneed Chris- 
tians were unfaithful to their vowa." Also, 
another, as follows: 'The gates leading 
down the wide road to hell are now opened 
to stay that way In our city for two more 
years, and no one knows the outcome!" 

"Who brought these In?" asked Mr. Sears. 

"Dr. Chaser," replied the printer. "He 
said he would be In to-morrow to read the 
proof." .The Items, however, were not pub- 

The week following that, another article 
was sneaked Into the print shop, which read: 
"One of the defeated Ins, who ran for alder- 
man, says that he attributes his defeat to 
the church vote, and calls Christians by 

such names as are unfit for publication here. 
There were true ChrlHtlans in bis ward — 
woe to the hypocrites in the other warda[" 

"Whafs Dr. Ch?.fier got to do with tbe 
paper?" asked the printer. 

"1 don't know," answered Sears. 

"I wish he would pay me the bill he owes 
me for the time when he used to run the 
paper several years ago and not come around 
here with his little spite-games. He asked 
me when he brought this in, why you didn't 
publish those Items last week, I told bim, 
because the paper was full of news and an- 
announcements, when be asked me point 
blank. 'Now say, didn't that Michael Sears 
order them not published?'" 

"Well!" exrlaimed Mr. Sears, experiencing 
□ feeling of indignation rising within bIm. 
Ill see Mr. Layman, tbe business manager; 
about this matter." 

'If Mr. Layman knew," spoke up the 
printer, "that Dr. Chaser was coming around 
like this, It would be all oft with him hav- 
ing anything to do with running the paper 
and that pretty quick: Dr. Chaser's only 
mad because when he run the paper he run 
It Into debt and failed, while you are making 
a feuccese of It." 

"Well, the whole matter is this: 1 wont 
have anybody sneaking around after me, In 
such a mistrusting and insinuating manner; 
if he has anything he wants put In tho 
paper, why don't he come to me with It like 
a man. and not %o around In an underhanded 
way like this?" exclaimed Michael Sears, 
Eoing out to ses Mr. layman. 


By J. L. ASHUK'K. 

"Did you say you wanted a job?" inquired 
Jake, the round-up boss of the "quarter cir- 
cle X" outfit. 

"Yes, sir." answered Jimmy. 


"Yes, sir." 

Jake snorted. Jimmy's slender figure, 
white hair and blue eyes certainly did not 
suggest the physical ability of a cowboy. 

"Can you throw a rope?" asked Jake. 

"I can throw one. but doubt if I could 
catch anything," was the honest reply. 

Jake took a fresh chew of tobacco. 

"Well, are you afraid of a cayuse?" he 
asked conclusively. 

"Not if it's gentle." 

Jake smiled and the boys laughed. 

"We sure don't keep nothin* but gentle 
cayuses here." he observed ironically. 

"Boys, put this kid on the tamest bronk 
in the outfit. He ain't a cowboy, but we've 
got to have a man, and if he lives he'll learn, 

It was hard to find a gentle horse in the 
"quarter circle X" outfit. After some discus- 
sion, Piledriver, being the oldest, was select- 
ed. Now there was not a better cattle horse 
on the range than Piledriver; but it never 
failed to aggravate him to have a green hand 
upon his back. The "churnings" which they 
received had caused him to be named Pile- 
driver, and well he deserved the name. 

Poor Jimmy! he stayed as long as he could. 
Wildly he grabbed for the saddle horn, but 
it was out of his reach. His mad flight 
through the air ended in his landing head- 
first in a sage brush. Indian Charley mount- 
ed the irate steed and knocked the rough off 
him, after which Jimmy remounted and was 
permitted to remain. 

In the days that followed the boy must 
have suffered untold misery on the sun- 
baked, sage-brush plains, but he stuck 
pluckily to his post and never complained. 
Many were the bruises that he received from 
the vicious horses; but as the days went by 
they began to respect his pluck and kind- 
ness, as did the rough cowboys who were his 
comrades. It was amusing to see him sad- 
dle, bridle and ride quietly away upon a 
horse that Jake, Indian Charley or any of the 
boys would have had to tie down to saddle, 
blindfold to mount, and "pull leather" to 
ride. Piledriver and he became fast friends. 

Note. — "Jimmie" i» a story of out-and-out West- 
ern life, and conies from the pen of one of the 
promising writers of tlie state of Wasliinjfton. 
This tale is based upon fact. --The lOdltor. 

The Grand Coulee, a great gorge of E^ast- 
ern Washington, extends for some sixty 
miles through the Big Bend country. Its 
walls are from two hundred to a thousand 
feet high. Being in a cattle country, it 
sometimes happens that cattle in after-night 
stampedes rush over its bluffs and are killed. 
Cattle men, accordingly, think it unsafe to 
"hold" large herds of cattle near the preci- 
pices; but notwithstanding this, the "quar- 
ter circle X" outfit one afternoon were 
obliged to camp with two thousand steers at 
Willow lake, within two miles of the Coulee's 
bluffs. Towards evening Jake began to grow 

"Boys, from the looks of the sky, we are 
in for trouble," he said. 

"If they stampede we'll head *em if we 
can, but if they get a good start for the wall 
they are goners, and as well, we, if caught in 
front of 'em. Watch out for that." 

Jake was as daring as any cowboy on the 
range, but was always counseling others to 
be cautious. 

It had been a warm, sultry day. Surround- 
ed by a ring of fire, equally unbearable to 
man and beast, all day the sun had glared 
from a coppery sky. Now, a reddish ball, it 
balanced upon the edge of a black, lowering 
mass of clouds from which an occasional 
rumble of thunder could be heard. Each dis- 
tant rumble found an echo in the great herd 
of cattle. Occasionally a steer would 
"break," but instantly a cowboy was after 
him and back the unruly bovine would come 
with the rawhide cutting fancy figures upon 
his back. As the clouds crept onward the 
sun disappeared in a blaze of red and yellow. 
All nature seemed awestricken. The songs 
of the birds subsided into frightened chirps 
and an ominous silence Settled over the herd. 
Within a half hour after sundown the heav- 
ens were overcast with a pall of blackness 
that seemed to threaten destruction to every 
living thing that might be wraii>ped in its 

Pale and stern. Jake assembled the boys 
and gave his orders: 

"Boys, there will be fireworks in them 
clouds to beat the devil's own, and that herd 
will stampede at the first crack. If they 
start for the wall get alongside the leaders 
and shoot and yell to beat the devil. That'll 
turn 'em and the rest will follow.* We've goi 
to turn 'em away from that wall or the 
whole push are goners." 

"Everybody see that his cinch Is tight," he 
added, nervously eyeing the herd. 



Hundreds of steers were pawing the dust 
and goring the earth in a frenzy of rage and 
fear. Suddenly a wicked bar of fire shot 
athwart the sky. 

'*It'8 here, by — !'* roared Jake; "Remem- 
ber that wall!" 

An instant later, from horizon to horizon, 
the sky seemed rent by the crash of thunder ; 
not so loud, but no less terrible was the 
answering roar from the herd, and two 
thousand cattle crazed with fear, irresistible 
as the waves of the sea, were sweeping 
straight towards the wall of the Coulee to 
their death and to the death of every living 
thing that fell in their path. 

Hardly was the stampede on than the 
sharp crack of pistols told that the boys were 
doing their duty. Jake went tearing along, 
shooting and swearing, like the gallant old 
cowboy that he was. Indian Charley was 
not far behind him. Joe. the Mexican, not 
as well mounted, was in the rear, but riding 
in a manner that showed little caution. And 
Jimmy! In the melee he had been forgotten, 
but there he and gallant old Piledriver were 
by the leaders and fighting with recklessness 
outdone by none. 

Within two minutes Jake's followers, ex- 
cepting Mexican Joe and the Indian, were 
well up to the front, shooting and swearing 
as only cowboys can. 

Slowly the herd turned to the right and 
away from the great precipice, but it seemed 
that the cattle were surely lost. The contin- 
ual flashes showed them to be within a quar- 
ter of a mile of the brink. Scarcely possible 
did it seem that they, ^within that distance, 
could be turned far enough to the right to 
bring the direction of the herd's flight paral- 
lel with the course of the precipice. Yet 
the boys persevered, taking all chances, 
fighting to save the herd like the heroes they 

Stubbornly the leaders gave way, but in 
spite of all Jake and his followers could do, 
the herd drew nearer the chasm. Soon the 
outriders were within fifty feet of the brink, 
and steadily drawing nearer. Three steers 
broke, dashed across this space and plunged 
over the precipice. Jake gave up. Reining 
in, he fired twice, and wheeling his horse 
about, raced back. The boys followed. Not a 
second too soon did they turn. For a moment 
it seemed that the edge of the herd, steadily 
closing in, would crowd them over. Riding 
within twenty feet of the brink, they barely 
cleared the rear of the herd. Nothing more 
could be done, and reining in our panting 
steeds, together we watched the herd. 

Almost parallel they were going now. The 
inner edge of the flying mass closed with the 
brink. Occasionally a steer would be crowd- 

ed off, but still the main part of the herd 
seemed safe. 

"If it wasn't for that curve a mile below, 
the outfit would be all right," said Jake. 
"Oh, if we could only get at the leaders to 
turn them off of it." 

A faint pistol report was borne to our ears. 
Looking in the direction of the sound we 
saw a tiny flash and again heard the re- 

"It's Jimmy, by — ! and he's still plugging 
at them leaders," shouted Jake, excitedly. 
"Boys, we're a pack of white-livered, chicken- 
hearted cowards." 

Fifteen cowboys swore, all at once. Then, 
after the herd they went; why they knew 
not, for all they could do was to ride in the 
dust; but still, they went. 

Yes, Jimmy was there; and he saved the 
herd. When they reached the curve the 
cattle had swerved to the right barely 
enough to clear the precipice. Now they' 
could go straight ahead, wherever they 

The boys drew rein. Darkly yawning be- 
fore them was the vast chasm. Its shadowy 
depths, grim and sullen, apparently bottom- 
less. How thankful they, to have been 
spared from the awful fate which had so 
lately threatened! 

"Well, the herd is saved, and it's Jimmy 
that's done it," said Jake. "We'll look him 
up and greet him for the hero that he is." 

After riding about and hallooing for a 
while and failing to flnd Jimmy, they con- 
cluded that he had gone on with the herd, 
and returned to camp. In the morning they 
found the herd several miles from where it 
had been left the night before, and complete- 
ly exhausted. But where was Jimmy? Ev- 
ery face was pale when they found him miss- 
ing. No comments were made as to his fate. 
Each knew. Without a word they turned 
and rode back to that fatal precipice. When 
they reached the spot where last they had 
seen him they dismounted and cautiously 
picked their way along the brink, looking 
for those signs which they dreaded to see. 
Jake was in the lead. Presently he stopped 
and motioned the others forward. • 

"Here's where they went over," he said 
huskily. Hundreds of feet below lay what 
they knew to be the mangled remains of 
brave Jimmy and poor old Piledriver. 

"He commenced and ended his cowboyin' 
v/ith Piledriver," said Indian Charley, sor- 

Fifty miles from civilization, Jimmy got 
but scant funeral rites. Sorrowfully 
wrapping him in a blanket, they lay him and 
the gallant old horse in graves side by side. 


When thia was done Jakfe stepped forward ful death whlth the herd bo narrowly es- 

BDd said: raped. The cattleownere were not long In 

"Boys, I alo't much (or praylo', but a xhowlng their appreciation of the^lioy's deed. 

prayer baa got to be said before we fill ttaeae Now, In the wildest part ot a great cattle 

graves. Does anybody know the Lord's range and In the shadow- of a great preci- 

prayer?" pice, the coyotes often sniff suspiciously at a 

"Used to," said Billy, the cook. beautiful marble shaft. Gayly blanketed In- 

"Say It," commanded Jake. dians sometimes examine curiously the, to 

Reverently all knelt and repeated with tikem. meaningless lettering that reads 

Billy the beautiful words which. In child- simply: 

hood's days had been repeated at mother's ^ ^ 

knee. When they arose tears were making 

muddy streaks over every dust-covered : JIMMY AND PILEDRIVER. 

Jimmy had saved the lives ot two thousan'l : They Were Heroes. 
cattle. At the last moment he and bis horse 

had been crowded over the cliff to that aw- ■ 

Chchalis and Lewis County, Washington 

History grows beautiful as it grows old. 
The painting may not be perfect, but if it is 
tinted with the color of age imagination cov- 
ers the defects with a sacred romance bor- 
dering upon the religious. The artist's name 
may be forgotten, his birthplace unknown 
and the plot of ground wherein his bon^ 
rest be beyond the ken of the living, but. i^^. 
this mystery and blank only adds a gk>#^nii 
luster which perfection in the new- and pres- 
ent cannot claim. 

Thus, as we consider the early history of 
Chehalis and Lewis County we find ourselves 
delving into the midst of old and picturesque 
recollections. Before the territory of Wash- 
ington was set off from Oregon, Lewis Coun- 
ty was organized and in its area it embraced 
almost all of that part of the present State 
of Washington lying west of the Cascade 
Mountains. The county was named after 
Captain Meriweather Lewis, of the famous 
Lewis and Clark expedition when in 1805 
the Columbia River was explored. 

The first permanent settlement is sup- 
posed to have been made in the county by 
Sidney Ford and Joseph Borst, who located 
on Ford's Prairie about 1847. Some main- 
tain that another settlement was made by 
traders of the Hudson Bay Company in the 
early forties on the Cowlitz Prairie. 

Lewis County, as it is today, lies between 
Puget Sound and the Columbia River, and 
has an area of over 2,000 square miles. Its 
resources consist of lumbering, agriculture, 
mineral and coal. It extends from the sum- 
mits of the Cascades wherein the Cowlitz 
River has its headwaters and extends west- 
ward, embracing the broad valley of the 
Cowlitz and the valley of the Chehalis, up 
to the summit of the low range of foothills 
of the Olympic Mountains, through which 
the Chehalis River makes its way to empty 
in the Pacific Ocean. 

Originally, the land was covered with a 
forest of dense timber, but with the coming 
of the homeseekers, who first took up the 
little patches of prairies and afterward 
hewed out homes from the labyrinth of trees, 
fern and brush, the saw miii and the logger 
came and the farmer later found a garden 
for his plow, a pasture for his kine. 

There is no more favorable district in 
Western Washington, suitable for agricul- 
tural pursuit, than Lewis County. This is 
attested to by the fact that more acreage is 
under the plow in this county than in any 
other on the same side of the mountains. 
The crops produced are of wheat, oats, hops, 
hay and potatoes. The grazing supports 

large numbers of cattle which affords a sup- 
ply of milk and cream for a number of but- 
ter and cheese factories. The statistics of 
1900 give 87,623 pounds of butter and 29,107 
pounds of cheese manufactured in this 

The hop yield in Lewis County for 1900 
was from about 700 acres and worth approx- 
imately $100,000. 

The live stock assessed in the county for 
IdOO' ^as as follows: 3,585 horses and 
mules, 12,144 cattle, 2,676 sheep and 6,122 
hogs. ' Quring the past two years these fig- 
ures have been largely increased. 

T^' timber resources of the county yet 
available have been estimated to amount to 
8,586,262,000 feet The trees are fir, cedar, 
hemlock and spruce and in many instances 
are found to be of immense size. There are 
about forty mills in the county and each is 
running to its full capacity. Over 175,000,- 
000 feet were cut last year. As the timber 
is taken oft the agricultural area is in- 

In addition to the features just mentioned 
in nearly every part of Lewis County coal 
indications are evident and in the mountain- 
ous portions mineral prospects are promis- 

The Northern Pacific Railroad traverses 
the county from north and south and has 
branch lines extending west to Gray's Har- 
bor and to Willapa Harbor, as well. Along 
the line of railway are found the most thick- 
ly settled districts. 

The principal towns of the county are Che- 
halis, Centralia, Winlock, Pe Ell, Toledo and 
Napavine. The two leading points are Che- 
halis and Centralia, three miles apart, be- 
tween which has sprung up an intense riv- 
alry. In this article especial attention will 
be given to the interesting features of Che- 
halis, which is the county seat, a special 
article to appear in the near future about 
Centralia and its varied interests, embrac- 
ing an account of the town's inception and 

Chehalis is located on the main line of 
the Northern Pacific railroad at the point 
where the local line branches off to South 
Bend and Willapa Harbor. The name is 
of Indian origin and means "sand." It is 
situated ninety miles from Seattle, and has 
a population of about 2,000. The business 
interests are compactly built together and 
at first sight the newcomer Is Impressed 
with the thrifty and prosperous aspect. 

The city has electric lights, waterworks 
and sewerage system, planked streets and 

sidewalks, and boasts of two attractive and 
commodious school houses, a court house 
and a fine targe hotel building. The 
Catholic church here has erected a convent, 
school and church which add much to the 
city's appearance. The Presbyterian, Meth- 
odlst, Lutheran and Baptist denominations 
each are housed in becoming and comforta- 
ble edi flees. 

The retail stores here compare favorably 
with the metropolitan establishments of the 
large centers and are among the best In re- 
gard to size and quality as well as diversity 
and character of goods handled. The old- 
est bank lu this part of the state bere con- 
ducts business. The streets are graded 
and planked. Brick blocks and neatly kept 
homes attest to the city's proaperity and 

At the present time the city Is experienc- 
ing quite an activity In the Industrial line. 
A large sash and door factory has been com- 
pleted and begun operations. A new wood- 
gutter factory Is under construction. The 
capacity of the saw mill and shingle mill 
has been largely increased. A flouring mill 
and a mattress factory Is in operation. The 
Industrial features of the place are quite 
, active. 

The first settler to locate at Chehalis wa» 

Schuyler Sanders who came In the late 
forties. He worked along, eating, drinking, 
sleeping, tolling, hunting, etc., as pioneers 
do. until 1870. Then came the prospected 
building of the Northern Pacific railroad 
which brought large expectations. At this 
time A. P. Stiammons, Mr. Sanders and Mr. 
McFadden, with their families were living 
upon the little natural prairie where the 

In 1872 Mrs. Eliza Sanders laid out a town 
which was named "Sandersvllle." John 
Urquahrt was appointed that year the first 
postmaster, Oeorge J. Mogue opened the 
first store, with J. T. Newland In charge. 
At that time the population of the whole 
county could not have been over 500. 

Claguato was the county seat. There 
were live voting precincts; Boistfort, Cla- 
guato, Cowlitz, Newaukum and Slioofcum- 
chuck. School was kept In a log cabin near 
Wiley's claim on the Newaukum road. In 
1873 the Northern Pacific built through the 
place, but compelled the residents to go to 
Newaukum to take the train and enjoy 
freight privileges. The "People's Advocate," 
of Chehalis. I. P. Callison, editor and pro- 
prietor, gives the following Interesting ac- 
count of those times: 

"At that time there was no town, and the 



place was known as the Sanders Donation 
claim. In 1873 the Northern Pacific was 
completed through the county. But this spot 
of earth had no charms for them. They 
made no depot here and refused to make 
it a flag station. It was necessary to go 
to Newaukum to get on the train. Then 
the people in this vicinity began to protest. 
A public meeting was held to devise ways 
and means to induce the company to at 
least make this a flag station. At this 
meeting a committee consisting of William 
West, Ed Davis and the late J. H. Long 
was appointed to present the case of the 
citizens to Sprague, superintendent of the 
division, whose headquarters were then at 
the great city of Kalama. 

"This honorable committee betook itself 
on foot to Newaukum and boarded the train 
for the rising young city of the West. They 
reached Kalama and presented their case to 
Sprague. Among other things they informed 
him that in case a station was established 
here they would bridge the Chehalis river 
so the farmers of the upper valley could 
come here. 

"Mr. Sprague replied that they might 
bridge the river and build a plank road 
fifty feet above high-water mark, but the 
company would not put in a dollar. After 
much persuasion, however, they succeeded 
in getti9g a fiag station and as a compli- 
ment to their enterprise he gave the com- 
mittee a free pass home and for the first 
time stopped the train here and let the 
gentlemen off. Here was exhibited in the 
inception of the town that pluck, energy 
and enterprise that has made Chehalis the 
principal town of Lewis county. Nor did 
they stop here. 

"A joint stock company was organized 
with a capital stock of $300 for the purpose 
of building a warehouse. In due time this 
warehouse was built and the station was 
named Chehalis by the company. It was 
located down on Main street, on the west 
side of the track. The company had given 
the stockholders permission to build on the 
right-of-way. Here for several years farm- 
ers brought their produce and stored it for 
shipment. The company kept a man in 
charge of the warehouse, the railroad com- 
pany refusing to put in an agent. Charges 
were made for the storage of goods to de- 
fray the expenses of keeping the warehouse 
open. At length it was rented out at a 
yearly rental of $100." 

So well had the dominating spirits of the 
new town been pleased and encouraged with 
their success in the controversy with the 
railroad company that they looked around 
for other worlds to conquer, and concluded 

that they needed the county seat. They 
went before the legislature to ask the trans- 
fer of the county's business from Claquato. 
Opposition was met. But, when William 
West, George J. Hogue, Noah Bosworth, 
John Dobson and J. T. Newland signed a 
bond pledging the law-makers that the court 
house would not cost the county over $1,000, 
the wiseacres voted a change. Then these 
active Chehalisites built a building costing 
$2,500 and accepted from the county in pay- 
ment therefor depreciated warrants — ^just to 
show the people that they could. 

In 1889 the Chehalis Land and Timber 
Company laid out an addition to the place 
and the town went on a well-greased boom. 
New buildings went up on every hand. The 
practicability of building a cut-off from Che- 
halis east via Cowlitz Pass to connect with 
the overland route of the Northern Pacific 
at North Yakima gave everybody enthusi- 
asm and mild hysteria. Fine brick blocks 
went up on the prominent streets. A mag- 
nificent brick hotel was built and no reason 
could be conjured up which would stop the 
great growth short of a million. But the 
panic came on and the bubble burst. 

Now, the great brick hotel is turned into 
a court house — the county having bought 
it in at a tax sale. A new life has been 
developed. The great, powerful force of 
the true wealth-producing occupation — agri- 
culture — constantly went ahead and has 
caught up to the old boom town and is now 
flushing its arteries of trade and commerce 
with the substantial elements of permanent 
growth and prosperity. 

Near the city is the State Reform School, 
which was established in 1891 by a commis- 
sion appointed by Blisha P. Ferry, first gov- 
ernor of Washington after her admission to 
statehood. It occupies a beautiful site about 
one mile south of the town. 

The illustrations which embellish this ar- 
ticle have been furnished by the "Bee-Nug- 
get," of Chehalis. which is published by 
Dan W. Bush with J. C. Bush, editor. 

Today Chehalis is a thriving and prosper- 
ous town, from which the old landmarks 
are fast disappearing. The warehouse, 
which the citizens built in 1873 and which 
served for a depot until about 1885, has been 
moved back off the right of way and is 
known no more. The town has quite out- 
grown the Presbyterian chapel, which was 
its first church. The warehouse of the 
flouring mill, which was the first brick build- 
ing of the town, is not so important as it 
used to be. The old faces are gone, and 
of a truth, the early pioneer days are almost 
completely obliterated in the rush and hurry 
of the present. 

The New and Strange in Seattle 

By Pbtbb Farlky. 

S SEATTLE is one of the new 
and progressive cities of the 
United States it is only an ex- 
pected and logical conclusion 
that the latest improved de- 
vices for comfort and luxury 
should be brought into ordi- 
nary use both in business and private life. 
In Seattle, also as in the centers of all newly 
settled districts, the keen rivalry for public 
and commercial success has been carried 
into domestic circles. When an addition to 
the city is platted and laid out and adver- 
tised as the most attractive and pleasant 
location for residence property with a list 
of the advantages thereof set forth at length, 
immediately some one will spring up to plat 
another piece of ground in another locality 
and in fixing his addition up, in addition to 
making the same improvements, will add 
thereto others later and more modern, as a 
special inducement. Then, when building 
begins, each builder not only endeavors to 
put up a house prettier and better than 
any one else in his neighborhood, but also 
tries to add some new device or invention 
for convenience, which no former person has 
been able to procure. Thus matters have 
been going on until the present time. 

Electric enunciators, private elevators, 
electric contrivances to light the gas by 
touching a button, automatic arrangements 
to start fire in the cook-stove or furnace, 
automatic feeders for stoves and furnaces, 
crude oil burners, appliances to manufacture 
gas upon the premises from gasoline and pe- 
troleum, all kinds of burglar .alarm bells, 
self-acting kodaks placed in hidden re- 
cesses to photograph persons unawares, 
automatic telephone connections to all parts 
of the house, phonographs fitted up to cry 
out automatically whenever any one would 
come within a certain radius, steam, gas and 
electric automobiles, self-acting shoe clean- 
ing and polishing apparatuses, machines into 
which one could talk and a written letter 
would roll out from the cylinder, patent cook- 
ing machines, dish washing contrivances, 
doorways built into the partitions so as to 
be unnoticeable, ventilators which would 
provide pure air and make no draft, windows 

XdTK.- This sketch from the pen of Peter Farley 
is quite an original take-off upon the present ad- 
vanced kind of civilization. The illustrations were 
made by (Maude K. Evermann. one of the staff 
artists of The Coast, and mark an epoch in the 
crowth of this periodical. It Is expected that Mr. 
Farlev will favor The (\ust with other writings 
in the future. -The Editor. 

and doors so arranged as to be opened and 
shut, locked and unlocked by merely push- 
ing a button, movable side-walks from the 
front gates to the doorways, and hundreds 
of other little useful and convenient mechan- 
isms have become common by continued us- 

Ex-Mayor Wills, of Beacon Hill, was the 
first to astonish his friends by putting into 
use a platform arrangement for his dining 
room, whereby the table and chairs, after a 
meal is over, can be made to slide out into 
the kitchen upon his touching a button. By 
touching another button the partition moves 
up and the whole arrangement with the 
table piled with smoking victuals and sur- 
rounded with neatly dusted chairs, reap- 
pears ready for the guests to be seated. One 
evening his wife was showing how it worked 
in the presence of the governor's wife, and 
several aristocratic lady friends of hers, 
when she was astonished and her religious 
blood sent tingling through her veins, as 
the partition raised up and in slid the table 
with an enormous bucket of beer upon it, 
and the hired girls with several of their 
friends, surrounding it with uplifted glasses 
to their lips. 

Then, Mr. Bluestone, a retired alderman, 
living out by Lake Washington, a man of 
very languid habits, bought a bathing appar- 
atus and put it in his home for his especial, 
private use, whereby through touching a 
button at the head of his bed the water 
could be turned on, through touching an- 
other the water heated by a coil of electric 
wires, and by touching another he could 
cause the tub to roll out of the bath room 
and up to his bed. ready for him to get into 

When he got into the tub, brushes would 
scrub him well from head to foot. Getting 
out, by merely standing upon a platform he 
could be annointed with delicate perfumes 
and rubbed thoroughly dry. Tumbling into 
bed again by pressing another button, he 
could cause the w^hole affair to roll back into 
the bath room, when the door would close 
after it. 

He was so selfish with this fine toy and 
proud of it, that he would not permit any 
of his family, not even his loving and beau- 
tiful wife, to make use of it. One afternoon 
he took a number of his cronies from the 
Rainier Club, up to his house to display the 
thing to them. He explained how he could 
turn on the water and heat it. Then he drew 
himself up and added proudly: 

"Now, I have a surprise in store for you!" 
and he touched the third button, when out 
of tbe bath room rolled the tub, true to Its 
niechtiDlsm, with his wife la It, shrieking 
and carrying on In a highly tHghtened and 
hyBterlcal manner. His gentlemen friends, 
nonplussed and confused, In great haste 
made precipitate departure, leaving him to 
make aJl kinds of explanations to bis un- 
mlndfui and disobedient spouse. 

Holdups became quite frequent, and the 
Mayor of the city procured a much-coveted 
contrivance, whereby he had a cane so ar- 
ranged that whenever a robber might ap- 
proach him at night, he could press a but- 
ton and flash a powerful electric light into 
the face of the ruffian, thereby blinding him; 
rockets of various colored lights, as danger 
signals, could be sent Dying into the air; 
a shrieking whistle made to burst forth by 
pressing a bulb; a photograph be taken of 
the desperado; an automatic gun with eight 
charges send bullets at his assailant; a nee- 
dle punch tbe exact hour and minute of tbe 
occurrence upon a small dial; a phonograph 
take down a record of the cries and lan- 
guage used; a small telephone to attach to 
the police patrol wires and communicate 
with headquarters; and a bottle of stimu- 
lant, a bunch ot surgeons' instruments and 
some medical supplies he stored away ready 
lor use If the victim should need them. 

Hr. Smiles, a prominent lawyer, when he 
built his boose on Renton Hill, in addition 
to other conveniences, bad constructed an 
arrangement by which false walls could, by 

a lever in his bed room, be lowered or raised 
in front of the cupboards and shelves where- 
in were the treasure* and valuables of the 
household. Trap doors were made, under 
which were built dark vaults and large vats 
filled with cold water. One night he thought 
he heard noises In the dining room down 
stairs, and he shut down the false walls, to 
find in the morning that he had ensnared his 
wife's maid, who had gone to the sideboard 
with her sweetheart to help themselves to 
some of his imported high wines. 

On another occasion he Imagined, when 
the bishop of the church was visiting him, 
that he heard steps In the library adjoin- 
ing the spare bedroom, and in nervous haste 
i:e unfastened all the trap doors in the 
house, when he was astounded by hearing 
wild shrieks from his wife, as she was pre- 
cipitated into one of the dark vaults, she 
having gone down stairs unbeknown to her 
husband, for some blELckberry cordial for 
tbe baby. In reckless haste in the thin ap- 
part; L." ulght, he v.-:ut to her rescue, when 
be was thrilled by falling down into another 
dark cellar, and landing in a large vat ot 
cold water. Not until the unconscious 
divine was aroused by the confusion and 
uproar made by tbe servants, and the police 
had broken into the house, was peace 
again restored. 

Mrs. Loveland, when she was a widow, 
built a beautiful house on the heights and 
bad powerful electric knobs so placed on the 
outside doors that when a burglar might step 
to open one he would not he able to let go. 



but standing there be held in a vise-like 
grip; a telephone message be sent to police 
headquarters; all the lights in the house 
turned on; all the servants be aroused, and 
a great electric bell on the front porch set 
to ringing in a violent manner. A short 
time ago she wedded a dashing young Philip- 
pine war veteran, who was given to imbibing 
once in a while. Several weeks ago she 
was horrified to find her husband had come 
home from the club later than usual after 
the automatic clock had set the burglar 
alarm; that he had been caught in the 
snare, and his weakness made a public scan- 
dal for the whole town. 

Mr. Wealthy, who lived in North Seattle, 
and who had two weak, puny gilded butter- 
fly, society daughters, both of whom he very 
much desired to marry well, bought all sorts 
of ingenious inventions when he completed 
his new home. He had phonowats, which 
would put a person's thoughts into th,e most 
delightful and charming language if fastened 
next to tlie head in the hair. He had inven- 
tions which would picture living, movable 
representations of the most attractive wom- 
en conceivable, and cause the vision to take 
form upon the atmosphere anywhere, there- 
by transforming his daughters into charm- 
ing, lovely graces by merely touching a but- 
ton, notwithstanding that they were homely 
looking and sour of countenance. 

He had automatic whist instigators, which, 
if worn under the arms in the armpits, would 
cause the player to go through the most 
intricate hands and play the cards in strict 
accordance with the latest rules without 
making a solitary mistake. He had pianos 
which would play the most difficult composi- 
tions whenever the girls would sit down to 
the instrument, turn on the current and fin- 
ger the keys. All that was necessary was for 
them to think of the title of a piece of music 
which they desired to play. He, also, had 
guitars, mandolins, and all kinds ol musi- 
cal instruments constructed upon the same 
plans. He had songothafCs, which would sing 
the most delightful songs and burst forth in 
the most entrancing and sweetest tones 
whenever the girls would press them to their 
bosoms and think of any song which they 
desired to sing. If they could not make 
a choice it would begin upon the latest and 
most popular selection of a romantic char- 

The Due de Mint was visiting at this home 
a short time ago, and all seemed certain that 
he would be compelled to get a divorce from 
the Duchess and woo one of the daughters, 
when, by accident, as the girl was pretend- 
ing to sing a rare French tid-bit of love and 
courage, her father, who was dozing in the 

next room, dreaming of a royal son-in-law, 
in an unhappy moment by accident happened 
to touch the button of the songothaff which 
the other sister had carelessly left on the 
sofa in the parlor where she had been amus- 
ing some of her college girl friends in the 
afternoon, and the thing burst out singing, 
"I'll leave my happy home for you!" and 
the piano began to play *'Ta-ra-ra-boom-de- 
hey ! " The Due de Mint left the next day. 

Mr. Jaqkson, a man who had made a for- 
tune in Cape Nome, whose home had orig- 
inally been in the State of Delaware, when 
he built his grand mansion, in addition to all 
the wonderful and pleasing contrivances and 
appliances for convenience and comfort had 
by the others, known only to himself and 
his wife, procured from a friend of his in 
Australia, a new invention, for which he 
paid the neat sum of five hundred thousand 
dollars, upon the condition that his friend 
would tell the secret of the affair to no one 
else in the United States^ and not even use 
the same himself, until ten years should ex- 

In his reception room he had a chair so 
placed that the finest and most sensitive 
sounding areas made of the most delicate 
slender wires were constructed upon three 
sides, above and beneath it. These surfaces 
of gauze wire were made supersensitive by 
electric currents, and were connected by an 
intricate mesh of thousands of delicate wires 
so placed and regulated as to convey the 
most minute impulse or vibration of the 
areas to a disk or receiver called a tholo- 
Ecope, which in turn was connected by pecu- 
liarly constructed systems of electrical mul- 
tipliers to a curiously shaped instrument, 
something like a telephone, which was called 
a thotoscope. This was connected with an- 
other affair placed directly behind the chair 
and hidden by a thin gauze screen called an 
orathaut. The screen covering the orathaut 
was of the same color and appearance as 
the area and was quite unnoticeable. 

Whenever the i)erson sitting in the chair 
would think of any subject, the machine 
vrould at once speak out audibly the very 
thought, whether the i)erson thinking de- 
sired it or not. The electrical thought waves 
o? the mind would be impressed upon the 
areas surrounding the chair, and through 
the registration of that impulse upon the var- 
ious parts of the machine, the emotional im- 
pulse of the person thinking in the chair 
was put into language. 

Shortly after Mr. Jackson had acquired 
his fortune great hopes had taken hold of 
him of winning laurels in politics. He even 
aspired to the presidency of the United 

Several times before, he had made the race 
for governor and bad been .defeated. Now, 
lie thought, by once placing bis trlenda and 
adTersarlea la Ible chair, he could find out 
what their plans were, and easily echeme to 
thwart them. It was, also, very amuBlug 
for him to usher into this private reception 
room hlB Intimate friends and then notice 
their surprise and discomfiture at hearing 
their every thought bellowed out clearly and 

He grew to be feared. People wondered at 
It until they visited him. Whenever they 
came from that awful room, visitors would 
look at each other In stupid, expecting anx- 
iety, lest they might at any moment hear 
their private. Inner thoughts spoken out up- 
on the air around them. So very awestrlck- 
en was every one that no one even dared to 
tbinlf of the mysterious chair when anyone 
else was around. Great, strong-minded men, 
once independent and self-reliant, now be- 
came the most abject slaves to the will of 
the owner of that chair. Nothing he could 
ask ot them was too great a task tor them 
to try to do. To serve him was a pleasure; 
to do for htm was a craze. Any foolish whim 
of his was acceded to at once. No one for 
a moment even dared to have a passing 
thought of going contrary to his wishes. If 
they ever did, one visit In that horrible room 
was Bufflclent to change that person's mind 
and change It Immediately once for all. 

Thus, Mr. Jackson's power waied great, 
very great Indeed. Would not anyone gain 
great power and influence under such clr< 

Then, notwithstanding the strife ot fac- 
tions In the Republican party of the state 
and the bitter opposition to the Republican 
party of all other parties, he was elected to 
the Senate of the United States unanimous- 
ly. Nothing seemed possible to keep bim 
out of the president's chair. 

That was yesterday. Today It Is different. 
Last night he and bis wife got Into a little 
heated discussion over the measure of the 

relative power of mind over mind In refer- 
ence especially to personal influence and the 
subject drifted into the matter ot woman 
suffrage. While they were In the midst of 
their discussion an automatic audopbone 
annunciator spake out to announce the ar- 
rival in the reception room of a mutual 
friend ot theirs, Mr. Sweetone. Each appro- 
proprlated the call, and at once both rushed 
in excitedly to greet him. Through inadvert- 
ance in her exltement. Mrs. Jackson sat 
down In the talking chair, when the thing 
burst out with: 

"Isn't Mr. Sweetone a handsome man! 
Oh, 1 love him! I will elope with him as I 
have planned, and carry off all the Jewels 
and valuable securities the old man has 
placed In my care!" at which she Jumped 
up. yelling out in hysterics ; 

"It lies! It lies! 1 never intended to 
do any such thing! 1 didn't! I didn't! I 
won't!" which caused her husband to go into 
a towering rage, and race around the room 
In the wildest choler. Unconsciously he 
circled around after a. while to the place 
where the talking chair was located, and 
plumped himself down into it, when from 
the wall behind him came the angry words; 
"I don't care If you do go; I never loved 
you anyhow! The servant girl is sweeter 
far — more loving, more beautiful! I hope 
you will leave me, and get out at once. You 
only married me for my money! I see now 
my foolish mistake — I should have married 
the one I really loved, way back In Dela- 
ware!" So taken was he with his feelings 
that he really thought that he was talking 
aloud, but his wife knew, and rushing up to 
him she hissed Into his face: 

"I knew it! I knew it! I shall leave you 
immediately! Mr. Sweetone here, will take 
care of me!" 

"Go! Go!" he roared, running after her, 
"and good riddance! I shall pay you a hun- 
dred thousand dollars for going! Go!" 

In nishing for the elevator to go up stairs 
to get her clothes, and as she went dragging 



Mr. Sweetone after her, tn Bome m^nyer^ 
Mrs. Jackaou tripped over a. wire whicfi had 
become loosened at the elevator entrance. 
By so doing, she connected and crossed the 
electric light current with the telephone and 
annunciator Byetema all over the house. 
Fires caught In almoet every room aimulta- 
neously. The elevator ahot up half-way be- 
tween the third and fourth stories and there 
stucli fagt. Her husband burst a blood ves- 
sel in his great passion, and, insensible. 
fell to the floor dying. The servants rushed 
hither and thither, dazed and crazed by fire 
and excitement, and barely escaped with 
their lives. Mrs. Jackson and her compan- 
ion perished In the elevator shaft. Before 

the Are department could get on the scene, 
the. house — the most costly and magnificent 
ever built in the world — was a mass of 
flames and falling to ruins. 

Today everybody in the city is speaking 
about Mr. and Mrs. Jackson and their talk- 
ing chair. People laugh gaily to themselves 
like escaped poll parrots, and muse over the 
hideous private secrete and thoughts which 
died with the owners of tliat atrocious af- 

Mr. More is planning a grand and impres- 
sive — ^hul time forbids; the remainder of this 
theme must be reserved for another occas- 

Seattle. Washington. 


Ah ! rou'rc a dublDK yoang brooklet, 
Oq your boaom diamonds sleam ~ 
And you 
Neath tt 

And i 

tbe pretty auDbeam. 

But yon can't always be youthful. 
And make lore to a. aunbeam gay 
Wltb love's sweetH 
For grave duties n 
When you're a river some day. 
Then on, dance an, little brooklet. 
With your Iotp, for IC won't be lo 
Till your brook-hood day 
Will fore'er pasa away. 
And you'll be a river atrong. 

lit TernOD, Washington. 

From river to father ol waters — 
For that you will be some daj— 

You'll rush tit) four life luibe sea stoiie. 
To send back new baby raindrops 
In a brooklet to run and play. 
And Ihey will grow lo brook-hood. 
And moke love to a SDnbelm gay : 
They will dance with her. too, 
RoQDd tbe ferns, like you, 
In yoar merrr brook-hood day, 


The Samples Were Pure. 

At one time there was much gold CKclte- 
raeat along tbe Lewie river In the State of 
WashlostoD, and among other i>lacea, alons 
tbe river bank, a tunnel was driven into 
Mother Earth's domains some sixty feet, 
when it was abandoned. Some time ago. 
A. Bavan, tbe popular stage driver 
between Ilwaco and Chinook, In Pa- 
cific county, conceived the Idea ot going 
up the Lewis river on a prospecting tour. 
After great labor he arrived at the place 
Tihere the slity-foot tunnel had been driven. 
Exploring the place, he discovered that the 
^Irt had caved In and closed up tbe passage- 

ThlnlclDg that the work had been aban- 
doned because of the cave-In. he went to 
work, and after several days of strenuous 
toll, dug out the loose earth and eventually 
reached the face of the solid rock at Its 
«nd. Here he secured several samples of 
the product, and after carefully covering blii 
tracks, made for an asaayer's oBSce, where 
be left the ore. 

In a few weeks he called upon the assayer 
of ores carrying precious metals, and was 
thns addressed by the man who made it his 
business to solve tbe mysteries of ore bodies; 

"I have carefully ezamlned the specimens 
70U left me, and have put them through sev- 
eral different tests to assure myself of the 
«orrectneaa of my analysis." 

"That's Jost what I wanted you to do," 
broke in Mr. Bavan, with a smile beaming 
4rver his countenance. 

"And," continued the assayer, "I have had 
many different kinds of ore to assay — " 

"That's Just why I came to you; I knew 
yoo could tell to a certainty," Interrupted 
the stage driver, with a broad smile of satis- 
faction spreading over his face as he added, 
"I told tbe boys you could tell bow rich 
that claim was." 

"Ab 1 have said," the worker In precious 
ore bodies then continued, "I have had many 
samples to pass ^pon, but I never assayed 
anything In my life so near pure — " 

"Ah!" ejaculated the elated Bavan, "every 

word I have said Is verified — the boys will 
believe me now?" and he leaned forward to 

"Well," again began the assayer, "I never 
saw anything In my life so near pure rock 
as the sample you brought me!" 

Bavan paid the assayer In heavy silence, 
and swears he will stick to staging until be 
goes prospecting In the great beyond, 

A Very "Dense" Landlord. 

In the town of Chehalls la a magnificent, 
commodious and elegantly furnished hotel 
of which the only lack Is a tactful landlord. 

In this palatial edifice is an Inviting, well- 
lighted office. Numerous placards, however, 
dispel any Illusion ot welcome. "American 
Flan Only," "Fire In the Sample Room Fifty 
Cents Extra," "All Guests Without Baggage 
$2.00 a Day Straight," etc., etc., greet tbe 
traveler on all sides. 

One evening a weary and worn Journalist 
entered this place. The electric lights shone 
bright and the fire was warm. Several peo- 
ple were scattered around the room. The 
newcomer dropped his gripsack at the door 
and strode over to the desk. He was about 
to ask the man behind the register If any 
mail had come for htm and began, 

"My name Is . I'm the editor 

of " 

"It don't make any difference," the fellow 
he had addressed, who proved to be the land- 
lord, broke In, "our rates are 12.00 a day 
straight; we make no discounts to anybody; 
this Is the only hotel in the city; if you dont 
have any baggage, you pay in advance; we 
cash no checks; we don't take part pay In 
advertising; we don't want and won't sul)- 
Bcrlbe for your paper, and it you don't stay 
at this hotel you can't do any business In the 

In a dazed condition the editor jabbed his 
name on to the book and was shown a room 
by the landlord himself. After turning on 
the light he stood by the door and waited. 

"Well, didn't I pay you!" snapped the 




'Tes/' replied the landlord, "but I just 
wanted to tell you that if you wish this room 
tomorrow night you must leave word at the 
office before eleven o'clock in the morning so 
we can change the linen, if you go away — 
don't forget now!" 

And this hotel keeper wonders why busi- 
ness is poor in prosperous times, and what 
can induce the fool traveling men to stay 
over night in Centralia and drive into Che- 
halls early in the morning to get away with- 
out paying any hotel bill at his place. 

Senator B- 

's Ruse. 

Many good stories are told of Senator 

B , but none more characteristic than 

the following. 

Senator H 

had taken a two-term 

course in the United States senate, and was 
still a poor man. His constituents pointed 
to this record with pride; his enemies quoted 
it privately with despair. 

Twice they had tried to buy the legislature 
against him. Each time something had gone 
wrong at the critical moment. 

Again he was up for re-election, but this 
time his opponent was a multi-millionaire, 
who had long coveted the seat. Senator 

H made his customary campaign, 

and, as usual, the majority of the legisla- 
ture was with him. But he had heard of 
sundry back-alley meetings between the 
weaker characters upon his side and the 
known dispensers of financial favors upon 
the other, and when a number of these sup- 
porters evidenced considerable difficulty in 
meeting his eye, he said nothing, hut made a 
mental note of it. 
' A brother senator from an adjoining State, 

Senator B , dropping in upon him 

one day. Senator H said:. "Senator 

B , they've got me me this time — 

they've bought the weak sisters among my 

"Nonsense, man, you'll be all right. How 
many do you suspect?" cheerily blustered 
Senator B . 

« ' 


'Just enough to defeat me." 

'Are they really favorable to you at 

"Beyond question, and were nearly all 
elected largely upon that issue." 

"Then get them here quickly," urged Sen- 
ator B . "Get all the suspects to- 
gether and deliver them a homily upon hon- 
esty in politics, etc. Tell them that the po- 
litical influences of the State must be puri- 
fied and kept clean, etc. Tell them that 
you have reason to believe that they will be 
approached and an endeavor made to buy 
them. Tell them that such men as these 

must be reformed for the public good and 
made to quit their miserable tactics — stop 
insulting honest men and trying to buy their 
votes — but that their only vulnerable point 
is their pocket-book. Tell them to take the 
money if offered to them — to be sure and get 
it in advance — and then vote for you. 

They will be startled at the accuracy of 
your information, fiattered by your expres- 
sions of confidence in their integrity; they 
will try to live up to your conception of 
their characters, and at the same time grat- 
ify their cupidity and please their constitu- 
ents. Try it, man, and I believe it will 
work with enough of them to save the day." 

That election of Senator H is still 

one of the stock conundrums in the third 
house of that State capital. 

Good Advice. 

At the Hotel Arlington, in Seattle, not 
long ago, a group of prominent men were 
talking. Joe Cornforth, an early-day pioneer 
in Colorado, was there. He is the owner 
of the new Alaskan Railway right-of-way. 
H. L. Greene, a prominent ex-newspaper man 
of North Dakota, was there. Others from 
all parts of the country were there. The 
conversation drifted until some one brought 
up the matter of free distribution of hot 
cofCee at the Journal office in New York. A 
fellow who was trying to sell a Dawson 
City mining claim cynically remarked: 

"That man Hearst is a bad fellow, and this 
coffee scheme of his is only done for an ad- 
vertising graft." 

"Well," Cornforth, the railroad man, broke 
in with some spirit, "It seems to me, if that's 
true, it would be a mighty good thing if 
some of the good men would follow a bad 
man's example.' 


A Mo«t wonderful Feat. 

There seems no end to the accomplish- 
ments of modern newspaper enterprise. 
There is a Journalist in the State of Wash- 
ington who takes the prize. Not long ago 
a boat called "The Poltolloch" went on the 
sands near the North Cove light, and all or- 
dinary efforts to dislodge her proved futile. 
The tug "Astoria" was sent for and, pull and 
haul as much as possible, the Poltolloch 
would not budge. Anchors of all descrip- 
tions were put out and with each effort hove 
to, while the ship remained where she was. 
As a last resort, a 5,000-pound mushroom 
anchor was sent for and, after much dif- 
ficulty, brought upon the scene of action. 
Then it was that this Journalist of whom we 
write took the matter up and gave a com- 
plete history of the affair and minutely de- 



scribed the wonderful mushroom anchor and 
wound up by saying that the more the force 
exerted pulled upon this kind of anchor, the 
deeper It would sink Into the bottom of the 
sea and the more firmly It would take hold. 
It specifically stated that It was like an um- 
brella with the chain fastened to the handle. 

Captain A. Young was the skipper on 
board the Poltolloch, and when the first 
trial was made he stood at the bow of his 
boat and himself directed the manipulation 
of the huge affair. By some oversight the 
heavy mass of iron was let down in the 
middle of the channel, where the bottom was 
nothing but rocks. As the power took hold 
of the chain the cable came rolling right in, 
and Captain Young smiled with utter satls- 
f^tion and was exultant in the thought that 
his craft was being carried otf the sand with 
the greatest of ease, but was disgusted when 
be beheld the immense iron monster come 
up out of the depths with the boat in the 
same predicament as it was before, not hav- 
ing been moved an Inch. That evening he 
was recounting the event to some of his 
friends In the city near at hand, when this 
energetic Journalist came up as he was com- 
pleting his story. 

"What's that?" asked Mr. Newspaper, with 
a nose for news. 

"Haven't ye heerd it?" exclaimed the skip- 
per, with a wink to the crowd; "we've puhi^ 
formed wan uv th' grea-atest fates en merry- 
time histhury. We pulled so doomed hard 
on thot hunk uv steel thot we tu-urned thet 
mushroom anchur wro-ong side aout, like an 
umbrelly en a gale, an' hove her oop t' th' 
vurry bows uv th' bo-oat!" 

"Indeed!" ejaculated the journalist In 

"An* it's a fac'!" gravely averred the skip- 

Then the enterprising newspaper man 
rushed to his office, stopped his press, wrote 
a half-column article, slipped It in at the 
last hour, published It through his entire edi- 
tion and sent the news abroad of a most won- 
derful event, before he was let Into the se- 
cret of the case. Now that editor hesitates 
to publish a church notice, unless he finds 
it verified In the encyclopaedia. 

Smoked Tea. 

holding our tobacco and fancy groceries 
went down the side of the mountain, and was 
lost, dogs and all, in the deep snow. We 
were too far on to go back for a new supply, 
and went on to our camp. 

"Candles were very scarce that winter. 
During those long dark hours, we would 
sit in the dark and tell stories, and when 
we were talked out, sit in silence around the 
stove. We only lit the candles long enough 
to cook and eat, fp}4 would blow them out 
as soon as the ||eal was through, care- 
fully laying them aside for the next feed- 

"We would' cook beans in a large kettle on 
the stove, and when they were done, lay 
them out on a blanket to freeze dry. Then 
we would sit around and eat them like pea- 

"Our tobacco gave out that winter, and we 
were in a pretty fix. After we had used up 
all the smoking tobacco we cut up the chew- 
ing tobacco and consumed it. When that 
was all gone we were all up against it 
After some skirmishing, we found several 
pounds of tea, and by scraping the bark off 
willow trees and mixing it, we smoked that 
the rest of the winter. It was a poor sub- 
stitute, but far better than nothing. 


'The luxuries of life are never fully appre- 
ciated," remarked a returned gold-seeker 
from the Klondike; "I remember once, wo 
were taking in our supplies, and the sled 

Was Hereditary. 

A very wealthy capitalist in the lumbering 
industry has a son who is in charge of the 
business and whenever he thinks a certain 
investment is proper he orders the work done 
regardless, of the protestations of his parent. 
It is related that one day the father was 
most bitterly put out to -learn that the son 
lie had' trusted with his affairs had in direct 
contravention of his wishes built a large 
number of houses in a locality where a new 
town was springing up alongside of one of 
his old camps. The irate father went out 
and ordered the men to stop further work. 
They stopped. Then the son went out and 
ordered them back. They were loath to 

"Who hired you?" he asked them. 

"You did," they replied. 

"Then you get right back there, if you ex- 
pect any pay," he rejoined, and they went to 

"My son! My son!" the father moaned, as 
he put his arm on his son's shoulder at leav- 
ing. "Why don't you mind me? Where did 
you get all this streak of wild insanity?" 

"Well," slowly replied the son, "I am un- 
der the opinion that it is hereditary.' 



The United States are suffering ~ the de- 
bllltatlng and inBldious advances of a dead- 
ly disease. Having had the alluring apple 
of golden pleasures and silver ease, adorned 
with the begemmed raiment ol eiory and 
power, held up before her eyes, Columbia, 
fair, true, pure, beautiful, lovely and charpi- 
tng virgin that she Is, has permitted the 
lecherous and vile demon of ^reed and lust 
touch his lips to hers. 
■ Already the moloch of money Onds the 
unspotted spirit of the United States bow- 
ing down before the Idol of greed for wealth 
and position, which has led every nation 
that ever worshipped It to ruin and disas- 
ter dire ABd complete. In each district, In 
each voting precinct, the one ruling motive 
which actuates publiQ sentiment and impels 
the citizen to exercise the highest preroga- 
tlve of his country, la the amount of finan- 
cial good which win result to him. Men 
seek public office and spend vast sums to 
reach their goal, not for the privilege of 
serving their country, but for the advantage 
and opportunity It will give them to amass 
greater wealth. 

"Gommerclallsm" sounds In the ears of 
the average citizen as pleasant as "patrlot- 
lim," but Its effect Is as deadly as "an- 
archy." Commerclallem means each man for 
himself, regardless of his comrades; so does 
anarchy. If the government needs trans- 
ports, aommerclallsm works off a lot of old 
hulks at advanced prices. "Embalmed beef" 
goes to the army Id the field and In com- 
pany with adulterated and impure supplies 
fciJJj more patriots and blots out more use- 
ful lives than bullets of foreign foes. 

Commercialism ia reeking with the foul 
disease of Insatiable greed, and not only do 
men and women once ioveable and kind, 
good and humane, fair and Just, turn with 
hesitating step to rob, cheat and plunder 
their fellow creatures, but they band them- 
selves together In trusts and compel those 
already Imposed upon to pay a premium for 
the privilege of purchasing a requisite com- 
modity of life. 

Tbis ex tortio Dating demon, when the 
highways, avenues, lanes, alleys, fields. 

barns, doorysrds, porches and sacred pre- 
cincts of the home have been stripped to 
supply the avarice and lust of the few in 
the palaces, turns toward ih« great machine 
of government and plots And plans to oper* 
ate It and by thwarting the demands of tbe 
law and evading Its duty to uphold and sua- 
tain the government, It stifles the voice of 
right, throttles the away of justice ^nd oTer> 
whelms the power and might of the nation. 
Then It becomes the government and In tiie 
place of the patriot puts a hireling— In the 
abode of the bousehQider, a despoiling rent- 
er — at the fireside in place of the faithful 
dog, a rapacious, devouring wdlj... 

This sounds like a fantasy, but ,lt la ab- 
solutely true. The tariff upon certain oom- 
modltles coming from the Philippines la a 
phase of It. The blocking of the sale ot the 
Danish West Indies was tainted with Its de- 
mands. The constant tariff tinkering la one 
of Its methods. The woeful coal strike was 
one of Its battles. The disposition to allow 
Venezuela to be overrun by foreign hordei 
Is a condition of lethargy arising from Its 
luxurious Indulgences. 

Of courne, the governnient Is operated in 
the interests ot the wealthy, because they 
only have that which the voter considers 
worthy of the care and protection of law. 
Honor, virtue, truth, faith, justice, chastity, 
love, purity, right, equality, freedom, liberty, 
honesty, sobriety, nobility, courage, patriot- 
ism, manliness, heroism, strengtb, power 
and a long category of other qualities are ot 
no great consequence, because an iMrrATion 


This disease has fast hold upon the body 
politic. The whole soul of the people Is 
taken up In getting a dollar regardless of 
how, when or where. Truth and purity are 
so modest they are not seen anywhere. 
Booze and debauchery are the accompani- 
ments of success. Laws are made In broth- 
els and executed by the pigmies ot the 
stums. Honor and dignity of official posi- 
tion are but the curtains behind which 
stand the ever-greedy servants of graft and 
blackmail. Even over the opium dens ot 
hell where the sweet, pure breath ot chastity 
Is sucked away by the vampire deroona of 



an unbridled lust, where the blight of an 
Impenetrable night of eternal death hovers 
oyer and settles upon the virgin soul of a 
loving daughter of America, over this reek- 
ing, foul, loathesome hole of iniquity, greedy 
•and avaricious property owners, through 
their agents in office, draw the mantle of 
-legal protection and lawful permission. 

This is America's weakness. The cure is 
•to honestly enforce the law. The instrument 
is a manly man. The method, to select men 
for public office and not allow the man to 
seek the office. The disease is not yet ad- 
vanced but it can be checked. The reward 
is a country of happy homes and truly pros- 
jerous people. 


Weeping, silver-hearted, Henry M. Teller, 
the old man plausible who so much ioVed 
the Republican party at the St. Louis conven- 
tton that he left the hall with tears streani- 
fng down his cheeks, so that he would not 
lose his seat in the 'United States senate, 
lias been rewarded again for hid piece of 
emotional acting. He had been returned to 
Us old position. It was not that they loved 
liim more, but that the anti-Walcott Repub- 
licans hated him less, which pit)ved the real 
cause of his election. However, laying all 
prejudice aside, Henry M. Teller, for all his 
efaortcomingpi and idiosyncrasies, is a man 
whom the people of Colorado can be proud 
to have as their State's representative at the 
nation's capital. He is not a great man, 
but he does seem to be good. 


At last the man got there. Levi Ankeny, 
of Walla Walla, is senator-elect from the 
State of Washington. It is no ignoble ambi- 
tion for a man to aspire to a seat in the 
United States senate. Levi Ankeny sought 
this exalted position and after years of pa- 
tient labor has reached his goal. From the 
very incipiency of his candidacy he met with 
pronounced and seemingly unsurmountable 
opposition, but he industriously and con- 
stantly with unswerving determination ex- 
erted every energy at his command toward 
the realization of his hopes, and now has 
had his ambition rewarded with the gratifica- 
tion of his desires. He planned and con- 
ducted a systematic and careful campaign 
and in its execution was successful. 

As an individual, Levi Ankeny is afCable, 
courteous and genteel. By careful and close 
application to business he has become 
wealthy. In his private life he is kind, pleas- 
ant and entertaining. He is a man of lib- 
eral ideas and has a wide conception and 
large understanding of the needs and de- 

mands of this Western country. It was the 
belief in his own heart tl^at he could do 
something, for his State, which would bring 
renown to his name thfit led )iim to aspire 
and attain the public office to which he has 
been elected. 

It is to be regretted that aspersions have 
been cast upon his name and that calumnies 
have been thrown upon those who. made his 
election possible. His friends do not be- 
lieve them; his enemies are not made the 
better, and the great masses merely gaze at 
the stain, turn with a sneer and move on 
with the passing throng. This much is true 
— ^Levi Ankeny's influence in his advent at 
the national capitol has by the methods em- 
ployed during and after his election been 
very greatly curtailed. However small the 
stone thrown, the glass broken must be paid 
for by somebody. 

As a senator with the large ambition he 
evidences, Levi Ankeny promises, if he ex- 
erts the same energy and shrewdness he has 
put forUi in his private affairs, to accom- 
plish much for the people of the State he 
represents. His first official act is awaited 
with keen interest and expectancy. 


In politics, as in every other avenue of 
life, honest assistance can never be relied 
upon from an enemy. It is very plausible 
that because a man represents principles of 
an opposing party he should get the support 
tfnd votes of that party. In the real con- 
flict, however, it don't happen that way. 
King county people were led into the idea 
that they could elect a Republican senator 
by the aid of Democratic votes, and a wind- 
Jamming Democratic editor says if the Kin\; 
county delegation had stood solid they toould 
have done sot Such twaddle is putrid gush. 
The rank misrepresentations of a self-eonsti- 
tuted Preston paper not only did Harold 
Preston's candidacy no good, but it misled 
his friends and the people of Seattle and 
King county to the end that many spent 
time and money uselessly and foolishly and 
literally walked into a political death-trap 
laid through the machinations and secret 
schemes of the very ones who posed as 
friends. It is a lie to think any Republican 
paper would build up a Democratic candi- 
date's influence in any community, and vice 


Yes; Jones and Cushman voted on the 
emergency bill to take the tariff off coal, so 
a famine could be alleviated. It was a Re- 
publican measure; in fact, it was an Ameri- 
can measure, but these famous, far-seeing 



congressmen voted against it, as did three 
others. Why do you suppose they voted 
against it? They knew the bill would pass. 
Was it because they wanted to keep their 
record clean and claim the coal miners' vote 
the next time they run? If they didn't want 
to vote for it, they might have been dis- 
cussing the commission bill in the cloak- 
room. It wiUKb interesting to hear them 
explain; but, th^n. there will be other mat- 
ters to talk about! 


One of the strong and faithful public men 
of the West has passed. John B. Allen, 
ex-United States senator from Washington, 
one of the leading and most profound law- 
yers of the State, a popula;r, public-spirited 
citizen, a genial and affable gentleman, a 
kind friend and a loving, tender husband 
and parent, has ended his earthly labors and 
gone from our midst He was suddenly 
stricken down and met with characteristic 
fortitude and bravery the extreme sufCering 
of his last hour. His very last act of life 
was a service for others. His life was beau- 
tiful; his memory is a delight to all who 
knew him. 


Sound the trumpets! The stove-pipe, the 
silk-tile, the beaver-lid, the plug hat has 
made its advent upon the shores of the Pa- 
cific ocean! There are those who, to main- 
tain their personal ascendancy, or to em- 
bellish their dignity^. or to establish their 
superiority of 80cii|l diulosity, are necessi- 
tated to wear a plug h|^. Now, to be dis- 
creet, the wearer should study his facial 
contour and expression. Each shape of a 
plug hat is made for an especial character 
of face or type of expression. 

There is the Jolly student; his is the clas- 
sical block. The business man on parade 
must have a common-sense shape. The doc- 
tor necessarily must have the professional 
form. The hack driver requires the menial 
plug. The preacher looks best in the cler- 
ical. The actor has a tin-lined, so it will 
stand the knocks of travel. The dude has 
a block made essentially expressionless. The 
sport has one which he can use for a cus- 
pidor in some extremities. The bunco steer- 
er has a pattern following the clerical cut. 
The big stiff of the tenderloin has a shape 
very much like the society bird, only more 
substantial. It now behooves each aspirant 
to plugduggery honors to study his face in 
a looking glass and determine what shape 
and style will be the most becoming. 

Of course, it takes some cheek for a man 
to carry a plug hat on the top of his fuzz- 

covered cocoanut A full, round face looks 
the most refined. Mutton-chop whiskers, 
also, add dignity and can the more easily 
be raised on a large Jowl. A goatee and 
bristling mustache have a decided aristo- 
cratic caste. A narrow face should grow 
bumside whiskers with mustache. A clean- 
shaven face looks more like a hack driver 
or a bum actor. A cigarette sets off a plug 
hat in a decided manner and is a popular 
fad among negro crap-shooters. The bon- 
ton monkeys of New York and Portland are 
now following that custom. 

An iron-clad rule of etiquette among plug- 
duggers is that the headgear should never 
be lifted to any one save a female accom- 
panied by a wearer of the plug — should not 
even be lifted on the street to scratch a 
fiea bite or to wipe a perspiring brow. 

If a plug hat by accident should be blown 
oft the head it should not be worn again un- 
til recovered. 

The accompaniments to a plug hat are a 
bald head, a split-tail coat, patent leather 
shoes, flesh-colored gloves, a cane and nose 
glasses. A fancy vest is, also, the proper 
thing. If a great coat is worn, it should be 
the opera style. 

Mouse-colored spats set off a plug hat 
admirably. Checked trousers are the fad 
among gamblers. Much attention should be 
given the face. 


Have you ever considered the hangers-0|^? 
They are those who are flitting hither aad 
thither, like the gaudy butterfly, whose omy 
aim in life is to be with the "push." They 
are those who hang out in saloons and rise 
like the tide to the bar when some sucker 
offers to treat the house. They are those 
who follow up waves of prosperity and live 
in homes they can rent furnished. They 
buy office furniture on the installment plan 
and rent a typewriter. They make no per- 
manent investments, because as soon as they 
can make a stake they are determined to 
go elsewhere. They are like the unprincipled 
camp followers of army days — a pestiferous 
gang of marauding knaves who cheat, gam- 
ble, swindle and steal with the dignity and 
grace of a police judge fining a three-weeks' 
drunk who tried to make holes by shoving 
his face through a stone wall and a brick 
leaved gutter. These buy on credit and sell 
for cash. They are inveterate borrowers, 
who remember not to repay. They are op- 
erators, not creators. They are the "big 
mitt," "leadpipe cinch," and "sure-thing" 
grafters. They are hangers-on, simply hang- 




And now begins a Mormon dynasty in the 
United States senate. The saints of Utah 
have concluded to send a missionary to the 
nation's capital. The strenuous Teddy said 
he didn't think they had time at Washington 
to discuss religion, and wrote a note to the 
faithful, hinting that if Utah didn't want 
to get her nose pinched she had better keep 
her preachers at home. Hut Apostle Reed 
Smoot was elected, notwithstanding, and 
there is no known reason why he cannot 
take his seat. 

The United States constitution places no 
embargo upon religion. A Joss-house en- 
thusiast, an Eddyite, .a drunkard, a gam- 
bler, a crack pool player, or a pugilist, if 
he is not convicted of any crime nor stands 
culpable, being of sufficient age and legally 
eligible, can claim a seat when he receives 
the election. But, then, the President can 
refuse to shake hands, if he wants to. 


Fool, foql is he who temporizes — ^who| 
throws aside the hope of future joy for emp- 
ty present pleasures! The politician who 
studies only to be "with the people," the edi- 
tor who labors to appear as the popular 
champion; the second-hand joker, who ped- 
dles the wit of another greater than him- 
self; the small-bore, muzzle-loading, one- 
pound philosopher who shoots the ping-pong 
balls of policy rather than the solid shot of 
principle. These depraved. P&nderlng oscil- 
lating, denying, excusing, flippant, arrogant, 
wobbling, despicable flunkies are and have 
the most they ever can. While they ride 
upon the waves of success they are suffered; 
when they fall they are scorned, rejected and 
deserted by those they seem to serve. The 
man of the day on the morrow will be the 
man of yesterday, but the man of principle 
is the man of yesterday, today and forever. 


It is a startling thing tor a fellow in the 
bright, glowing morning of life to be stricken 
down and flnd himself to be friendless. His 
labors, while he was strong, were all given 
toward the building of a name, or the es- 
tablishment of a business, for himself. Now, 
as he lies prostrate, he finds he has only 
himself as a friend. How ungrateful, how 
cold, how silent the companionship! No 
hand is raised to help him. No heart is 
warmed to love him. No arms go out to 
embrace him. No voice is heard to cheer 
him. He lived alone. He dies alone. He is 
friendless. When he is buried he is forgot- 
ten, because the object of his life went with 
him. Ah, dear reader, live for others, and 
when you are gone they will live for you. 


The editor of Th^ Coast is in receipt of 
some very sharp and sarcastic postal cards 
asking the reason why the "February num- 
ber has not reached me yet," many of which 
suggest that the management has "gone 
broke," and others that the writers "have 
been swindled." The communications were 
not given a personal reply. 

The editor despises and loathes the habit 
of apologizing. Each month he publishes as 
good a number as the support received en- 
ables him. He does the best he can and 
offers no excuses and, be the number good 
or bad, strong or weak, the fact that it is 
new an4 original and written and secured 
for The Coast is one reason for satisfac- 

Under the present management, the ed- 
itor has been and is editor, advertising man- 
ager, subscription solicitor and general writ- 
er. Because of arduous duties and inces- 
sant care and anxiety for the success of 
The Coast, on December 1, 1902, he was 
taken ill and confined to his bed. This con- 
dition of affairs existed until January 20, 
1903, when he began to "get around" again. 

The February number was printed and 
published while the editor was convalescent. 
He did the best he could, dear reader, and 
he felt the sting of tardiness as much as 
you did. Although not yet recovered, he is 
working again and more ' determined than 
ever to publish the best and strongest pe^ 
riodical in the West and have it reach its 
subscribers "on time." 

The Coast is gaining the support of think- 
ing subscribers and judicious advertisers 
and at all times in all places exerts the 
best, purest and noblest impulses and ef- 
forts to treat that support and encourage- 
ment with as fair and frank a compensation 
as is possible. 

Hence, kind friend, know that for all the 
mistakes and shortcomings, the purpose be* 
hind it all is perfect and pure and followed 
out in a manner best as far as the editor 
knows how. If you know of a better way> 
give him your counsel and advice. 


She was given life in the midst of poverty^ 
but for it all, she lived and grew strong and 
pretty. The public school gave her an edu- 
cation, even if she did stop in the intermedi- 
ate grade to help at home. As she worked 
she grew beautiful, and honest courtiers 
whispered in her ears the answer to her at- 
tractions. Then she dreamed. As she 
moved in the home she dreamed of a lover, 
of a lover who would come and take her 
from her menial task. Those around her 



^ere no better than she, and with her great 
beauty she could claim a greater, a nobler, 
£L higher sphere. One by one her admirers 
dashed their hearts against her will of stone 
and fell away disappointed. The poor girl 
sat alone. Beauty of form and face was all 
she had. A Ifaily caparisoned fellow beheld 
her. He looked grand. He must be grand. 
The poor girl looked upon him and gave 
him her heart. He was a gambler. She is 
a mother. She is no longer beautiful. She 
is disappointed and ^d.' 
The poor girl! 


The following taKen from the "San Fran- 
cisco News-Letter" of January 17, 1903, ex- 
plains how people are dying from "Water 
Gas Poisoning." It appeared under the cap- 
tion, "Parsimonious Lodging House Keep-* 

The number of deaths in this city from gas 
poisoning has reached alarming proportions and 
an investigation has been started to find the 
cause and remedy. Most of the deaths have been 
in cheap lodging houses, four people having been 
asphixiated in one house within a few days. In- 
quiry develops the fact that in most of these places 
the gas is turned off at the meter at midnight. 
Lodgers go to sleep with their gas burning, and 
while they are still slumbering the gas is again 
turned on at the meter, and with serious, often fa- 
tal results. Parsimony prompts action, and death 
often follows it. 

How landlords can make anything on some of 
the hovels they conduct is something of a mys- 
tery, doubt they feel Justified in putting 
a compile stop to the burning of gas after cer- 
tain houn; but their action endangers human 
life, and should be prohibited by law. Many 
guests of public houses abuse their privileges by 
burning gas in an unreasonable amount and at 
unseasonable hours, but other lodgers should not 
be miule to suffer disaster and death for their mis- 
■ deeds. 


Love is that attribute of the heart which, 
when the mind is satisfied and confidence 
is born, springs into existence. Upon the 
stimulation of faith and trust it exerts it- 
self to accomplish something, to obey the de- 
sire of the soul to serve the one in whom it 
has confided. It is restless until it is suc- 
cessful. When it has achieved its purpose 
it is blessed with a satisfaction and a con- 
dition of contentment which words are not 
found to define. This calm of spirit and 
rest of soul, this contentment of heart and 
satisfaction of mind, is called "The Peace of 


The race problem in the South is the legi- 
timate fruit of politics; statesmanship had 
nothing to do in bringing about such a con- 
dition of affairs. In dhort, the Republican 
politicians at the close of the civil war saw 
what to them seemed an opportunity to per- 
petuate their party in power. All that was 

necessary was to give the hordes of ex-slaves 
the right to vote and then scatter among ^ 
them sufficient whites from the loyal dis- 
tricts to corral them and a dynasty would be 

It was established. The dream was begun. 
But, shades of Sheol! The unconquered he- 
roes of many conflicts- broke the carpet- 
baggers' slumber and today the mighty ma- 
chine is in the hands of a Caucasian nu- 
merical minority and is called the "Solid 
South." Statesmanship would have treated 
the Ethiopian the same as the Indian and 
the Mongolian, upon a basis of merit and 
qualification. There is certain to be a ruc- 
tion and row as matters now are in Dixie, 
which will continue until statesmanship rem- 
edies the defect. 


Amidst the halls where plenty has been 
stored, where luxury and riches in their 
brightest glory shine, there is sometimes an 
aching void so vast that life itself is made 
unbearable. It may be poverty in physical, 
moral, social or spiritual health. It may be 
the lack of appetite, or, perhaps the dulled 
sense of appreciation. It may be the want 
of true, honest friendship; or, the absence 
of the hand and voice of pure love. Tet, be 
it as it may, or what it will, the one who ex« 
periences it, is miserable and poor, indeed. 
The gilded palace is truly then an echoing, 
empty, cheerless tomb. Ah, the rich and 
poor! Do not begrudge wealth; do not envy 
the rich. Their cup of sadness and woe Is as 
large as their possessions are vast and great. 
Rather, whisper in their presence the sweet 
words of affection and hum for their hear* 
ing the delightful melody of true love. Then 
the aching void will have been filled and 
the empty palaces inhabited. 


The editor often wonders if, for all the 
midnight oil consumed and the racking wear 
and tear upon that great machine, the body, 
with its soul and mind, the earnest efforts 
exerted are appreciated. The editor loves 
the people whom he serves and wants to do 
all he can to promote their true happiness. 
Letters like the following give him encour- 
agement and show him these are heabts m 
THE people's bbeast, and provide him with 
strength to do: 

WenAtcbee, Wash., Jan. 25. 1003. 
Mr. Honor L. Wllhelm, Editor of The Coast: 

Find enclosed $1.00 for wliich extend my 
subscription. 'Thb Coast is the best magazine 
that I can find, and will prove itself a credit and 
benefit to any reader or home. I congratulate 
you in the purity of its pages — "In purity is 
strength." A subscriber, H. STOCKTON. 

■rj boDsht ODt "AmerlMn DIplofDacy In the Ot- 
Init." br Hon. John W. Foafer. wbo la Ibe autbor 
of "A Century of Amerlcsn Dlplomacr." Other 
lite boola from tbls house are : "Zut and Other 
ParlalaiiB," bj Guj Wetmore Carry I. and "A 
Dauxbter of the Pit," by Margaret Doyle Jack- 
ion. We hope Hoon to be able 1o examine "A 
StDdent'a HIatory of-Euglleb Literature," by Prof. 
V. E. BlmondB. 

"THE STORY OP THE LOTUS" la a pamphlet 
written and publlabeil by John E. Quncliel, Toledo. 
OblD. and claims no special literary merit. It la 
neatly printed, and Bella tor 15 cenla. a lotus pin 
accompanying. The pnjflt ceallied from the aale 
of this booklet will be used for tbe benefit of 
the Toledo Newsboy'a AwodatloD. 

HARPER * BROTHERS, New York, have Just 
ppbllBbed "In the Osrden of Charity." by Basil 
King, the author of "Let No Maa Put Asunder :" 
■The Pride of Tellfalr," by Elmore Elliott Peake ; 
"Bli Trees," by Uary E. Wllklna FreemsD. and 
•nnonnoe for early March- "Lady Roae'B Daughter," 
by tin. Humphrey Ward. 

THE LITERARY WORLD Is now ptibllshed by 
L. C. I-age & Company, of Boston, and In the 
February number are slgna o( Ibelr proprietorship. 
Bllia CarmBD, who bas attained an Eastprn rpnti. 
tatlon for reellnR off poetry and who 

ork of I 

rati, b 

have not read It. no disappointment will 
should yoii procure It. The autbor la to b 

Tied for tbls style of story telling. ((l.BO. 


-jnthly with 

e of tbe presence of hia band at the helm. 

"The Literary World" Is In Its ail2Dd number, and 
la the recognized lllerary monthly of New Eng- 

■wake literary and critical weekly. _. ._ 

edited and coTcrs a wide field of dUcuselon. ]t 
alma to reflect the opinion of tbe leading publica- 
tions of the world In a concise and aUirevlsted 
form. It Is a bnay man's periodical. 
■ WILL B. MORE LETTERS la an original love 
■tot? of the most Intereallng type, written In an 
original alyle, by Honor L. Wllbelm. of Seattle, 
Waab. Tbe scenes are In tbe sunny South. The 
Editor of the CiDclnnall Post wagers (1,000 that . 
he could send a newspaper reporter south wbo 
could and a murderer wbo bad been eluding the 
detecllyes for years, while tbe reporter would 
know nothing abont tbe detecllvc work, only go- 
ing under iDStructloue furnished by tbe editor 
■ to report certain news. The reporter Is almply a 
|ood reporter. Tbe whole story Is told by a aeries 
of telegrams and letters. The murderer Is soon 
found and the reporter falls In love twice, but 
Bnally marries the murdered man's daughter ■ 
girl of true worth and loveable <' ' 

THE COMMONWEALTH, of Seattle, continues 
to lead tbe weekly Held In beautiful and artistic 
affect. Tbe boys certainly know how to get out a 
handsome paper, Tbe arrangement, the cut work,, 
the printing, the makeup Is excellent. Leonftrd' 
Fowler and Ur. Coleman, with their staff of work- 
ers, demonstrate tbeir ability to get there. 

THE PACIFIC MONTHLY, of Foctland, Oregon,- 
la making strenuoua efforts to get a circulation 
In WaahlugtOD, and In tbe January number print- 
ed a line lot of photographs representing acenes 
in Puget Sound, but we notice tbey bad muck 
more to print from Washington adTertlaers, and to 
say about tbe "Lewis and Clsrk Exposition," 
wblcb they are going to get up at Portland, than 
tbey did about Washington affairs. It Is expect- 
ed an OregOD publication should toot for Oregon. 

THE FAIRHAVEN TIMES, edited and pobllshed 
by Frank C. Teck, one of WaShlngton'^B rldera 
of the winged a teed of tbe muses, wbo dreams and 
writes poetry, In a recent Issue accuses Allison 
French, one of the keenest wits and humorists of 
the Northwest, of putting a doughnut on the 
lightning rod of a aaapectlng rbymester In Idaho. 
Mr. Teck, you hare slandered Allison French and. 
If you were not a poet of recognised capability, 
he would grind you to a grease apot between ths 
Irony and sarcasm of his aoKer. What have Toa 
against Mr. French, that you should accuse bim 
when you were uninjured? It the Idaho boy 


of trying t 



up with colic. B 
might have Jumpp 

and writes once IL _ , , 

Mg, nwtul Times circulation frightened you. 


Let him raye. 

bout 1 

: please don't. 

e afraid of Ed. 



but that great 

the devil __ ___ 

Now. It Is all offwith 

Bowman wouldn't have 
* ' 'tween him and 

CoAHT you could have escaped. 



Condueted for and bf the subscribers of 9f>S COASS^ 
<n the fnterasts of Udestft^rn literature and tmtP'^ 

I ( ) « 1 1 

1 1 • I « I « 

I « 1 1 1 « * 1 1 1 1 1 

I . • * « I v« • 4 I « I t « < I 

t • • I t • « « t <; I t t I 

^»4irM<Mi« « 


Fickle, bewitching and breezy 

BoUrteroQs and wild if she' wills, 
Tet welcome, ah! welcome, full surely 

Advandnff o'er valleys and hills ; 
Unlocking the streams in her passing. 

She touches the snow with her wand. 
Bringing flowers and grass to replace It, 

As she sweeps oyer all the fair land. 

She lightens the hearts of the many ; 

Miss Biarch a sweet mission fulfills; 
Long live this fair daughter of Springtime! 

Pray let her be wild, if she wins. 
Deep down in our hearts we adore her. 

For around us she weaves a sweet spell ; 
She leaves us her treasures In plenty, 

Ere she bids us a loving farewell. 

A link between Winter and Springtime, 

This fickle, fair maid is but one 
Of a trio of sisters of mercy 

Who finish the task she begun. 
We know that our first-loye Is fickle — ' 

Perhaps she may jilt us — who knows ; 
But she brings In ner train many treasures, 

And leaves us a queen when she goes. 


Sedro-Woolley. Washington. 


There is no horizontal stratification of 
society in this country like the rocks in the 
earth that holds one class down for ever- 
more, and lets another come to the surface 
and stay there forever. Our stratification 
ia like the ocean, where every individual 
drop is free to move, and where from the 
eternal drops of the mighty deep any drop 
may come up to glitter on the highest wave 
that rolls. — Garfield. 

All great works in the world spring from the ruins 
Of greater projects ; ever, on our earth 
Men block out Babels to build Balylons. 

— Browning ("Return of the Druses"). 

However things may seem, no evil suc- 
ceeds, and no good thing is a failure. — Long- 

One contented with what he has done, 
stands but small chance of becoming famous 
for what he will do. He has laid down to 
die. The grass is growing over him. — Bovee. 

Many men owe the grandeur of their lives 
to their tremendous difficulties. — Spurgeon. 

Note. — ^Thls excellent compilation of quotations 
from famous authors relative to the always delight- 
ful theme of success, comes from Victoria, B. C, 
and is the work of Miss Agnes Deans Cameron, 
who is principal of the Victoria schools and one 
of the prominent literary leaders of Western 
Canada. The short story, "The Turning of the 
Worm," in the February number of this maga- 
sine, came from her pen. — The Editor. 

We are our own fates. 

Our own deeds are our doomsmen. 

Man's life was made not for men*s creeds, 

But men's actions. 

—Owen Meredith ("Lucile"). 

The maxim of President Mark Hopkins, 
of Williams College, was: 

"What the world needs is not so much 
chemists or astronomers, or Greek grammar- 
ians, or specialists of any sort, as men" 

The talent of success is nothing more than 
doing what you can do well, without a 
thought of fame. — Longfellow. 

It is an uncontroverted truth that no man 
ever made an ill figure who understood his. 
own talents, nor a good one who mistook 
them. — Swift. 

Be what nature intended you for, and you 
will succeed; be anything else, and you will 
be ten thousand times worse than nothing. — 
Sydney Smith. 

Itfy man who is to succeed must not only 
be industrious, but, to use an expression 
of a learned friend of mine, he must have 
"an almost ingenious love of details" — Ar- 
thur Helps. 

It is a happy thing for us that this is 
really all we have to concern ourselves 
about — what to do next. No man can do the 
second thing. He can do the first. — Geo. 

Mankind are more indebted to industry 
than ingenuity; the gods set up their fa- 
vours at a price, and industry is the pur- 
chaser. — ^Addison. 

If you wish to get on, you must do as you 
would to get in through a crowd to a gate 
all are equally anxious to reach. Hold your 
ground and push hard. — Lady Mary Wortley 

Some of the world's most useful work is 
done by men who cannot tell the chemical 
composition of the air they breathe or the 
water they drink, and who (like M. Jour- 
dain), daily talk nouns, verbs, and adverbs, 
without knowing It. They know nothing of 
agricultural chemistry, but they can produce 
sixty bushels of corn to the acre. They 
cannot give a philosophical account of the 
lever, but they know, as well as Geo. Steph- 
enson, that the shorter the "bite" of a crow- 
bar the greater is the power gained. Like 



Sir John Hunter, they may be ignorant of 
the dead languages, but they may be able 
to teach those who sneer at their ignorance, 
"that which they ..never kh^w in ^y lan- 
guage, dead or living."— Mathews^ 

Although men are accused of not knowing 
their own weakness, • yet perhaps as few 
know their own strength: It is In men as in 
souls, where sometimes there is a vein of 
gold which the owner knows not of. — Swift 

Success in most things depends on know- 
ing how long it takes to succeed. — Montes- 

Our greatest glory is not in never falling; 
but in rising every time we fall. — Confu- 

Kites rise against, not with, the wind. 
No man ever worked his passage anywhere 
in a dead calm. — John Neal. 

There lives not a man on earth out of a 
lunatic asylum who has not in him the pow- 
er to do good. What can writers, har- 
anguers, or speculators do more than that? 
Have you ever entered a cottage, ever trav- 
eled in a coach, ever talked with a peasant 
in the field, or loitered with a mechanic at 
the loom, and not found that each of those 
men had a talent you had not, knew some 
thinks you knew not? The most useless crea- 
ture that ever yawned at a club, or counted 
the vermin on his rags, under the suns of 
Calabria, has no excuse for want of intellect 
What men want is, not talent, it is purpose; 
in other words, not the power to achieve, 
but the will to labor.— Bulwer-Lytton. 

To succeed, one must sometimes be very 
bold and sometimes very prudent. — Napol- 

A failure establishes only this; that our 
determination to succeed was not strong 
enough. — Bovee. 

The race of life has become intense; the 
runners are treading upon each other's 
heels; woe be to him who stops to tie his 
shoestrings ! — CarJyle. 

What a man does is the real test of what a 
man is; and to talk of what great things 
one would accomplish if he had more activ- 
ity of mind, is to say how strong a man 
would be if he only had more strength. — 


The following questions and answers have been 
sent In from various members for discussion by 
subscribers interested in this department. An- 
swers should be concise, direct and not to exceed 
a hundred words. Address ccHnmunlcations to 
Editor the Coast Library and Art Club, 
The Coast, Seattle, Wash. 

Query 4. — What should constitute a truly liter- 
ary production? 

Ans. — Literature Is, or should be, the written 
record of a spoken language. Its aim is to per- 
petuate the characteristics of people. It describes 
now they live, what they do, how they speak. 

what they think and when and where they abide. 
To be perfect, it should be as ntajt the spoken* 
prevalent language as possible. Custom makes 
grammar ; usage glyes ut . rhetoric ; habits of 
thoilght culminate In logic Hedce, .a truly lit- 
erary .production should be a c(»nblnatfon of words, 
?hi:a8e8 and sentences so constructed as to faith- 
ully represent the thought, customs and ISB- 
ffuage of a people in sqch.a degree as to arouse 
mterest, enthusiasm and delight. Diction, or- 
thography and style are the frames in which liter- 
ature 18 mounted and are not a requisite. — A. B. 
B., Seattle. 

Query 10. — Is dialect-writing a perversion or a 
reversion of literary merit? Are there any clas- 
sics written in dialect? 

Ans. — ^Language is the ultimate outgrowth of 
systematic methods of speech. The mind associ- 
ates words with objects and for conveniencs 
utilizes the same word each time. In speaking of 
time, place and methods of life, certain forms of 
speech and arrangements of words and phrases 
are originated and by usage become associated with 
certain expressions. Rul^ of speech are the re- 
sult and the refined and cultured speak and writs 
as nearly like the prevailing custom as they caiL 
Dialect arises from two causes — inability to learn 
modes of speech, or carelessness in the manner of 
speech. Dialect is the fruit of ignorance and iB- 
ability or of ignorance and laziness. It is permis* 
Bible in literature only so far as it portrays a 
character's pitiful or amusing attempts at correct 
speech. There are no classics written in dialect, 
because it is the manner of speaking in a mutilated 
language. It is a perversion and reversion to 
barbarism to write in dialect. — E. F., Whatcom. 

Query 11. — What is the best way to tell if a 
person has real literary ability? 

Ans. — The simplest way to determine if a writer 
has real literary « ability Is to ascertain from a 
perusal of his productions if (1) his work is np<m 
a proper theme, (2) his arrangement and expres- 
sion of thoughts interesting, (8) his method of 
speech fascinating, (4) the mode of his treatment 
original and new, (5) the grasp of his theme com- 
plete and masterful. — Anna S., Tacoma. 

Query 14. — ^What good does It do for a person 
to go to the schools of higher learning and study 
the dead languages? 

Ans. — No very great practical good, unless one 
makes these studies a profession and the profes- 
sion a career by filling a chair in a college or a 
university. Outside of a larger knowle<!^e of the 
historv and relationship of languages and a better 
acquaintance with the derivation of words and the. 
love and deeds of the ancients, there is but little 
to fit one for the sterner realities of life. — G. T. T^ 

Query 15. — Are there any schools of art in the 
State of Washington? 

Ans. — There are not ; but phases of art study 
are taught by nuiherous private teachers and in 
the normal schools, colleges and public schools 
courses of study are maintained in this profession. 
Art study in the West is in Its infancy. Cali- 
fornia, however, is better situated in art culture 
than Washington. There wealthy pat ron s of the 
studio maintain excellent opportunities for Its 
advancement. — Andrew Z. M., San Francisco. 

Query 16. — Is the painting of nude figures or 
the sculpture of naked statues conducive of high 
moral tendencies? 

Ans. — Generally. I presume? No. There may 
be a few minds capable of portraying, contemplat- 
ing, or discussing nudity irom an artistic stand- 
point, but It is doubtful If these can remain for 
long Impervious to other impressions. They may 
be able to dismiss, suppress or control these im- 
pressions, but the average mind does not, whatever 
is written to the contrary notwithstanding. Cold 
and lifeless may be the portrayal, but it suggests 
the living reality and nature is hard to suppress. 
What of ancient Greece and Rome in this respect? 
— G. T. T., Coupevllle. 

Query 18 — Is printing an art or a business? 

Ans. — Both. There is just as much of art in 
preparing matter for the press as there is of busl* 
ness In disposing of that matter when printed. In 
fact, the business depends upon the amount of art 
displayed in the preparation of the matter, jost 


tbe laiDe aa a picture In photograph; depeadg upon 
th« poae o( a inbject or th« aelecllon ol ■ view. 
(Sec aiuwer to Quer; If tn February number.) 

Querj 19 — What make* a palntlog valuable? 

Ana. — The Intrlnalc vaLae of a painting depend* 
not mirel; upoo tlie completenegi with whicb It 
reptesenta what la painted, but upoo the extent 
to which It appeals to tbe Im agio HE Ion, the Bug- 

Btlooa It makes, tbe memgtlea It awakena. the 
llDga It aronaes or tbe Bentlment It embodlea. 
A few atrtdces of a maater hand will tell more tban 
a mass of color from another.— G. T. T., Coupeville. 
Qner; S5. — Are tbere any aet rules wlileh a per- 
son can follow and become a great writer? 

Ana. — To be Buccenful in literature one moat 
hold lour -atlons : Education. In language, bla- 
tor;. customs ; determination, to conquer Id spite 
of almost Insurmountable obstacles : bealt-atlon. to 
prevent a hasty aubmlaalon of work to public crl«- 
clam ; faacln-atlon. or the power o( attrpctlng i 

di^ilay of word-plct 

f. M. a.. Clear Lake. 


Qnerj 13. — What constitutes a great artlit? 

Qnerr 21.— Aiw~there any great ftrllers br tte 
present day and what U the crlterlou b; which 
the; are aojudged! . , • ^ ' 

Qner; 22. — la It true that many of the great 
vritera In literature were UBers of alcoholic 
liquors ? 

Qnery 23. — What Is tlie difference between dot- 
«!• and works of fiction! 

Query 24.— Is tbe morning ' 
best time in which to wrLteV 

Query 26. — Bhould a' populai 
•red ■ literary genlos? 

Qoery 27. — What are the best ksjb by which i 

THOROUGH ,^T '."'"'^ »^'^; 

a^^r, : complete 


The ACME ia the place to go. It 
^=^^ Zmi^aUa positions ^=^^ 

.McLaren & Thompson 

SmiUc Wash. PHndiwli 

nlng the 



Query 28 — Hnat a person be a good apeller to 
become a great writer? , 

Query 29. — Is It neccsau/ for 
• great deal to be a perfect i 
Query " 

Qnerj i 

States a poet laure- . 

_. — Who made tbe moat famona pleca 
r la the Culted StateaT 
Qnery 35. — Are rebuses and riddle* literary pro- 

Query S6.^Ib the making of puu a form of 
class lc*l writing T 


BclentlUc System for 

BUST and 

Includes tbe use of 
Ele<trlclty. Mechan- 

ical .M 


ual and External 
McdlcalloD, and 
PhyBlcHt Cultore. 
Absolutely u n r 1- 
Talled. barmless. 

tleassnt and elTect 
re. Self applied. 

Money cheerfully re- 

dlate results nre not 
obtained. Ilirtlcu- 
IBTB In plain sealed 
enyclope, Dspt. a, 
Electro-Uanage and 
Med. Co.. P. 0. Boi 
SO, Ssatile. Waah. 


D who twllttlea hla kid 

Who BUra Dot where the moniitaln peak* 
Their sbsdows caat, but goea and seeka 
A wider, larger world, mar find 

^ Hotel Brunswick >« 

Biuin«M Cm Mr. 

— One Block fcom Union Depot — 

J. I. Connlnf bam, Prop. BBATTLB, U. B. A. 


I lor Commercial Uta 
Fine Sample Boom* 

OljttipiA, "WuLbingUxi 


Athlon. Inland Flyer. 

Onl7 pauenger steamahlp lliw to 
th« Puget Sound Naval StatloD. 

Home Study 
for Writers,.* 

School of Eng- 
llBb CompoBi- 
Uon. Tborongb 
conree In all 
branches of EngllBh compoBltJon for genera) 
students and profeBBlonal writers. Instruc- 
tion In Journalism, story vriting, verse, all 
classes of Ilterarr composition. Practical 
help for llterajy beginners. How to write 
correctly. Englleh gram mar made plala 
Punctuation and construction of sentences. 
For Circulars Address: School of English 
Composition, care THE EDITOR, Franl<- 
lin, O. 

25,IN Choice Roses for 1W3 

$3.50 a Dozen 

Western Seeda for Western Planten. 


to thoae who mention TBS CoiSr. 

PuKct Sound Nursery & Seed Co. 

1107-1109 Second Ave. BMttle. O. 8. A. 




Write for partlculara, do not delay. 


Seed Depl. 

Seattle, U. 8. A 


S19 riral Aw*. So. SaatUa, ^aab. 


If interested in Seeda, Poultry, etc., send 
for my new catalogue, it is free. 

anawerlDg Advert laementB pleaae mention Tni Coisr, 


This !• Trus Pathos. 

Tbe editor of "The Sumos Sentinel" leone 
«f the old school and writes editorial, sticks 
type, solicits adTertisements and Is tbe en- 
tire works. One week tbe paper mlBsed. The 
next contained the following heroic and piti- 
ful apolosr: 

Onr paper was read; to. print. on Friday, 
the I6th. While dolnr the chores about 
home In the morning, I was bringing In 
wood, an occupation belonging to other parts 
of the household, a sudden pain seized me 
In tbe lumbar regions, and then another, 
and I reeled and staggered to the house and 
a bed, shying off from the bubonic plague, 
the cholera, the smallpox, the devil or some 
other kindred complaint I felt assured was 
following me. It doubled and twisted my 
spinal column until I couldn't turn over In 
bed without help, nor tell the truth without 
using language not laid down In the ritual. 
A doctor was called and he pronounced It 
"lumbagof" Lumbago, be hanged! No sucb 
«ommon complaint as lumbago could hold 
me down, and here we are. That's the apol- 
ogy, and we will try to avoid another hap- 
pening of tbe sort. It may come, however, 
but as an old saw eaya: 

"Old man," says I, "your boss will die." 

"If be does I'll tan bis skin; of be don't I'll ' 
ride him again. Git up, old boss." 

Every issue of THE COAST is 
a Souvenir Edition. Send it to 
your friends in the East* 






St. Faul. 
St. l-onlH. 

Oth«t Eaatecn Points, 
e the goods are made up and te-sblpped 

Buy Direct and Save Money 

* AddreBB 


HIT Flrat Ave. 8EATTLB. IT. B. A. 

Sewing Machines 

'e have tbe "Standard," ■( 
le the BEST. We tiRTe a 
makes of BbutCle mBcblne 
a the factor;. 

jiowledged by all 

lambier at dilTer- 

We bur direct 

You buy tot ope-hall the price that aevlng 
machlneB are sold lor by men wbo employ 
agents— tie, *)8. t£0. 124 tor Dew aewlog 


Oine's Piano House, ML' 



on of ihelr 1903 


Largest TarleCy of Hgures and guallCIes ever 
In the Weat. 

Write or call nllbout dela;, 


Secon^ Avenue. Madlaon and Spring Slreeti, 

SEATTLE, V. 3. i 

In «iiswerlDg Advert laemeots please mention Thb Coast. 

The beautiful sew Sprtng and Summer 
Styles In Silks are now ready. WASH 

Ask for samples and prices ot new 
aPRINQ WAISTING8. We will gladly 
mail tbem to yon on application. 

ine0arti)y Diy flood* Co. 

Second and Madison Street, 

TICKETS ™*?£,^ 


St Pawl, Dulmh, MUaeipoIli, Chlca^** 


TbrooKh raltce sod Tonrlat SiMptn. 

Dining and Baffet SmoklDg Library Cirg. 



For Ratee Folders and Full InformatlDii, 
call OD ot addteai. 

Moathly Announeemeot 

Third Avenue Theatre 


Wnk Commenclus Marcb 22— 


Cor. Third Atq. and Madison St 
Phone Main 667 
Prices:— 20c SDc, 40c, 60c. 

Seattle Theatre 

J. P. HOWE, Manager 
We«k Commeadnfi: February 15 



Cor. Third Av«. and Cherry. Pbone, Haln 4S. 

Popalar Prices. 

Seattle, Everett and Edmonds Route 


Tb« Pine, Palatial PaaaenKer BiprMS Sttanw. 

Id anawering AdTeTtlaemeaCe please mentloD T 


APRIL. 1905 




My God. I kDow not why nor when Thou art; 

But this; — Within a perfect plane above. 
Where harmony exists In ev'ry part. 
In perfect glory of all truth complete. 
In grandeur ot success with no defeat, 
In majesty thou movest near to all — 
Yea. ver; near to those beneath who call 

To Thee (or aid — Thou art the Soul of Love. 

My God, I know not how that Thou didst send 

A perfect soul direct from Thee to rove 
Amidst the haunts of men to make amend 
For their sad ways of life — to be a friend 
To each poor outcast folly led astray — 
To lead a life lived perfect ev'ry way — 
To teach earth how to die; but this I know: 
'Twas done to show the world Thoii loved it so, 
That whoso on the Soul thus of Thee born. 
Believed, and held the faith until the end. 
Through death could enter life's eternal morn:— 

My God! My God; Thou art the Soul of I»ve. 

My God, I know not whence nor whither fiiea 

The Spirit who comes to me like a dove. 
And. while the light of knowledge blinds my eyes. 
Envelopes me with awe and clearly cries; 
"God loves thee, erring one: He sent His Son — 
The Son of Love, earth-bom— to lead thee on ; 
Hear Him; "l am the way, the trui^, the life, 
None Cometh to the Father but by Me; 
Beholfl! I stand and know each heart's own strife; 
Thy yoke Is heavy and thy burden great. 
But let MB In and I will come to thee; 
Yet, I can make thee free — I am th** gate:" — 
But this I know: Love's Holy Spirit gives 
My souMhe life of hope and joy it lives — 

Oh, God! My God! Thou art the Soul ot Love. 

Feb. 15, 1903. HONOR L. WILHELM. 

Copj right, 1003, by II 




KoTE — John Miller Murphy, the writer of th 
article, Is among the oldest and best-kaowa let 
dentH of the State of Washington. He has loi 
been BBBOClaCed nltb the public life ot Olympia at 
the State. It la with gratlflcatlon we are able ' 
aecure tbe art tele about Olympia from his pe 
Ur. Murpby was born near Fort Wayne. Ind., N 
yember B, 1839, Ho came to Portland, acroaa tl 
plains. In 1850, nith bis sister's family (Mr 
George A. Barnes). Tbe tollowlnK spring tbe fat 
ilv moved to Olympia. He served an apprectlt 
t the printing business In I'ortland fr< 


r year 

appointed public printer I 

1858 ( 

tab I lab ed the 

served eight years as city counclluian and one 
term ea county school superintendent. In ISBO he 
built the Olympia ttieater, ooe ot the neatest and 
moat modern of our costly theaters on the Coast. 
—The Editor. 

Olympia, the capital of the State of Wash- 
ington, ia nlCuated on Budd'i< Inlet, at the 
head ot Puget Sound, on whose Bhoree are 
found several cities which rival the larger 
emporiums of the East In Importance ot com- 
mercial and Industrial growth. It Is prac. 
tlcally located at the commercial. It not the 
geographical, center ot the State, and, as 
regards settlement, Is absolutely at the cen- 
ter ot population. Within a radius of 100 
miles from tbe State capita! there is a pop- 
ulation estimated at 300,000 people, which 
Is rapidly Increasing. The city Is easy of 
access, there' being two railroads, running 
dally passenger and freight trains, and a 
number ot fine passenger steamers ply dally 
between Olympia and Tacoma, Seattle, Shel- 
ton, Kamilchle and other cities and towns. 

The Burrsundlngs of Olympia are surpris- 
ingly fine, and the city Is designated by vis- 
iters very generally as "Olympia, the Beau- 

tiful," It Is located on a peninsula, gently 
rising from tide water until an elevation 
of nearly a hundred feet Is reached at Capi- 
tol hill, on which the people of the state 
declared, and two legislatures directed that, 
a million dollar state edifice should be 
erected. The basement story, already com- 
plete for the superstructure, at a cost of 
1100,000, is a massive foundation of stone 
' and brick walls and arches. But like all 
plans ol man the old initial ideas have to 
be changed to conform with the active 

According to the original plans a magnl- 
flcent structure ot which we present an Il- 
lustration, was to have been built. A land 
grant of 132,000 acres of land, most ot which 
was located and the selections approved by 
the general government, was available for 
funds necessary to prosecute the work to 
completion, with a surplus left for beautify- 
ing the grounds and supplying all the ad- 
juncts ot a modern state house. The capi- 
tol grounds consisted of 20 acres donated 
the state for that purpose. They are situ- 
ated on an eminence In the rear of tbe 
peninsula, from which a sweep ot 25 miles 
of the majestic waters of Puget Sound may 
be enjoyed. The capitol from the decks ot 
Incoming steamers, when completed would 
have presented a majestic appearance, with 
tbe city In the foreground and verdant hills, 
with snow-flecked mountains In the distance. 
The view from the original site of the state 
house la grand beyond description. Prom 
where the rear portico, with its majestic 
seml-clrcle of columns was to adora the edi- 
fice when completed, one may overlook the 
city at his feet, bis glance resting upon 
Mount Rainier on tbe right, with Its peak 
lost perhaps In the clouds, and its sides 
sparkling In Its garb ot perpetual snow; In 


front ttae srttceful contour of the SouDd 
affords a Bplendid picture lor the frame- 
work of the Olympic Rauge in the far dis- 
tance and the Black Hills on the left with 
their mighty forests of evergreen. The blue 
Eh;, with lis fleecy clouds, and its reflected 
splendor In the broad expanse of water, con- 
stitute the flnlahing touches of the Master's 
pencil In this grand display of nls handi- 
work. It la a view once seen will never 
be forgotten. . 

Now, the state has purchased the old 
Thurston County court house, and at a total 
expense of about (150,000 la constructing 
wingB and adapting it to the necessities and 
demands of a capltol building. 

Two miles from the center of the Capital 
City, is its suburb Tumwater, connected by 
an elegant outflt of electric cars with the 
city proper. Here Is where will in time be 
gathered the manufactories of the Upper 
Sound, for here are the mighty cascades of 
the Deschutes River, which make their leaps 
of bt feet In all, before reaching tide water, 
affording a manufacturing energy estimated 
at 10,000 horse power. Here, too, the land- 
scape affords a picturesque scene that lingers 
on the cherished leaves of memory. 

The eligibility of Olympla as a commercial 
point is shown by the fact that the eminent 
nUnds which inaugurated and wrought out 
the great scheme of transcontinental traffic 
by railroad, after thorough examination of 
the reports of the best civil engineers, based 
upon a careful personal examination In de- 
tail of alt rival points on the Sound, un- 

qualifiedly accepted Olympia as embracing 
more and better facilities for managing the 
great current of trade that must pass 
through the entrepot of the commerce of a 
great continent witii the remainder of the 
world. The location of toe Western terminus 
was made at Olympla. with a full under- 
standing and ample consideration of all tiie 
adJunctB and factors entering into the 
momentous proposition, but it so happened 
that a large proportion of the stock of the 
Northern Pacific Railroad Company was 
owned by the Puget Sound and Lake Super- 
ior Land Company, and the selfishness of 
human nature became apparent in a scheme 
for relocation simply to enlarge the scope of 
the land grant' from the government and the 
dona..ions of a rival city which, aiter the 
location had been made was ready to yield 
up everything to the rapacious cormorants. 
Although the terminue was changed to Ta- 
coma, the young city of Olympla stands to- 
day, as she did in IS70, when she was chosen 
under the dictates of reason and good Judg- 
ment, the possessor of the same magnificent 
natural advantages which ^e then held, and 
the day tor their full development is only 
postponed for a while. 

Olympia possesses fine graded streets, a 
splendid system of sewerage, an excellent 
water service, which affords likewise ample 
protection from fire by a. gravity system of 
ample pressure, an electric lighting plant 
and a magnificent street car line extending 
the whole length of Main street to the city's 
suburb, Tumwater, and on Fourth street to 
the eastern environs. She has two splendid 

riE rnorosKD capitoi, Bt'iLDmr.. 



saw mills, which furnlah treguent ' cargoes 
of lumber to aea-golng vessels; three shingle 
mlllB, a aash and door factory, two creamer- 
ies, three fish packing establishineDts, a 
wooden water pipe factory, and a brewery, at 
Tumwater, which makes absolutely the best 
beer on the coast. Besides these, there are 
many other smaller industrial enterprises in 
the city. 

There was a time when the trade of Olym- 
pla was somewhat embarrassed by the mud- 
flats formed from the silt deposited by the 
HXeschutes River, at the extreme end of 
Budd's Inlet, but that time has passed. The 
general government, realizing the import- 
ance of freeing commerce of the fetters thus 
Imposed, made ample appropriation for 
dredging a channel from deep water to City 
dock, and this has each year been improved 
by additional work until It will in time be- 

diseases that have prevailed here tor many 
years past have been diphtheria and scarlet 
fever (In a mild form) and these have iMth 
disappeared. The chief use we have for 
doctors Is as surgeons, arising from Injuries 
in logging camps, and lung complaints aris- 
ing trom exposure to the damp weather of 
winter. The very mildness of the tempera- 
ture and salubrity of climate Induce Indis- 
cretions which result In colds that if neg- 
lected lead to serious lung diseases. We 
therefore except them, %nd rheumatic com- 
plaints, and advise nobody to come nere with 
the expectation of betterment, if their afflic- 
tion Is in either the lungs or the bones. To 
sum up health conaitlone, we can do no bet- 
ter than quote the words ot a venerable oct- 
. ogenarlan to a representative of this paper. 
He said: 
"I have been here twenty-seven years, and 

hj I 


come adequate for all demands of deep-water 

Olympia has lately become the transfer 
point of large logging companies In the 
Black Hills and Chehalis County, the former 
corporation — the Mason County. Logging Co., 
alone, "dumping" a hundred thousand feet a 
day Into our bay, over the N. P. and P. T. S. 
tracks. The Chehalis combine finds an out- 
let by the N. P. via the Jefferson street term- 
inal, on the east side of the peninsula. 

The healthfulnesa ol our city Is one of its 
chief attractions. Statistics compiled by the 
government show that our state exhibits the 
lowest mortuary record of any section of the 
United States; and of all parts of the state 
Thurston County Is the healthleat. And this 
Is not all: Olympia shows the smallest per 
centage of deaths ot any settlement in the 
county! It Is a fact that the only Infectious 

In all that time have never had an hour's 
sickness." Hale and hearty, his eyes twink- 
led witu mirth, as he struck his cane on the 
floor to emphasize his words. He looked 
good for twenty-seven more years of health 
and happiness. 

Ot our climate It Is not possible to speak 
In terms of too high praise. Our city Stands 
pre-eminent for the mildness and equability 
of weather in all seasons. To the Eastern 
mind this will seem an exaggeration. To 
the average citizen ot the Eastern and Mid- 
dle States, who have heard absurd tales of 
the Willi Northwest, tnis country seems al- 
most Arctic In Its severity. It Is only re- 
cently tnat they have come to realize the 
truth, and every man who writes a true ac- 
count of the climate to friends In the East 
is a public educator. 

What one of the denizens of New York, 


TIt?:E ?'k;i.I.F:RS at WOltK NEAK OI.VMPTA, 

for instance, will b«lleve Chat roses and 
chrysanthemuma are blooming In our gar- 
dens In December? That our lawns are still 
Bi^een and beautiful? That no snow has been 
seen save that whlcb covers the white peaks 
of our masnincent mountains? That only at 
rare seasons the thermometer touches zero 
In the winter and that only tor a tew 
hours? That our splendid flower gardens 
are still blooming In December? Ttiat we 
plant our vegetable gardens In February? 
How shall they know that when they are 
seething In the burning sun ot a July day, 
the gentle breeze from the Olympic Range, 
cool and delicious, pours down upon this 
lovely and picturesque land? How shall 
they picture to themselves the coolness and 
eternal calmness that seems always tp be 
wafted to us on a summer's day from the 
eternal snows that He like a crown of glory 
about the brow ot Mt. Rainier? How shall 
they who sit beneath the deafening peals of 
thunder and the blinding flash of the forked . 
Ilgtitnlng, while the rain comes down In 
floods, ever dream of the gentle shower that 
falls in dreamy cadence upon this thirsty 
soil, as the blessing of the Omnipresent on 
the promised land? How shall we picture 
these things to them? The cold facts are too 

The average temperature of the spring 
months is 4S degrees Fahrenheit, for sum- 

mer 60 degrees, for autumn E3 degrees, and 
for winter 38 degrees. In the month of Jan- 
uary, which comprises the winter season, 
snow sometimes falls, but seldom remains 
more than a few hours. The days, as a rule, 
are clear and calm with falling temperature 
and frost at night, followed by a foggy morn- 
ing, which draws the teeth ot Jack Frost, 
as It were, and vegetation and fruit trees suf- 
fer no injury from his bite. As a fact the 
fruit trees are budding even In December. 
This fact and the further one that fruit 
grows In great abundance is complete proof 
that the winters are almost tropical In tbelr 

And tor the summers! What can be said 
ot them that wlH be simple justice? They 
are simply the Ideal summer. From April 
to November one long, glorious, splendid 
succession of sunny days, when life seems 
just to flow like a peaceful, quiet, rippling 
stream; the beautiful summer-land of the 
poet's dream. The realization of it Is found 
In Thurston County. The long delicious twi- 
light extending to 9 or ID o'clock In the 
evening, succeeded by a cool night, through 
which we 'Sleep In perfect comfort with ab- . 
soluteiy never the shadow of discomfort, 
makes a summer night the perfection ot hu- 
man bliss. 

The records of the U. S. signal station 
maintained in Olympla from 1878 to 1887 



IncluBlve, afford Uie following summary, 
based wholly upon official fiEures: Highest 
barometer, 30.63; lowest 29.16; range of ba- 
rometer, 1.47. Mean annual temperature, 
43.E: blgheat In ten years, 97 degrees. In 
ISSG; lowest In ten years, 2 above zero, in 
1884; mean temperature for sprinK, 48.8; for 
summer, 60.7; for winter, 3S. TLe precipita- 
tion In the shape ol rain and melt«d enow, 
baa been on an annual average 64.46; rain- 
fall tor spring, 12.01; for summer, 2.66; win- 
ter, 27.64. Mean direction of wind was south; 
the highest recorded velocity, 32 miles; 
average velocity, 3.65 miles per hour. The 
annual average clear days was 73, fair daya 
133, cloudy 169, and the number of daya on 
which more than 0.01 Inch of rain or snow 
fell was 161. Mr. O'Connor, who has kept 
the record since 1887, says that the figures 
since that time will not materially change 
the above record. 

New Haven, Conn., has about the same 
annual rainfall as Olympia; so has Charles- 
ton. S. C, and Chattanooga, Tenn., as well 
as Wilmington, N. C. Mobile has a far 
greater rainfall. Jacksonville, Pla., has about 
the same; Vlcksburg, Va., has more. Por- 
ttons of California more, and parts of New 
York as much. 

This brief and necessarily Imperfect sketch 
of some of the perfections of our beautiful 
little city cannot better close than with the 
following Btanzaa written by a prominent 
citizen; in reply to queries from his Eastern 
friends as to how he liked Olympia. He 

OlymplB, Wash., October aeveD, 
The prettiest place ihia aide ol beaveo, 
Wbere Eden Cralts, Dpoa the Eround. 
Lie Id abundaDce atl aroand. 

Apple and cranberr;, plain and pear. 
Bacb one oC them beyond compare : 
And tbeae ma; be eaten, both one and all, 
Without any danger ot iDCorring a (all. 

CnlBM one eata too much then the grief, 
A common remed; caa giTe relief, 
Zero, unhnowD In thia laroted ipot ; 
Summer-time never exceedingly hot, 

Realtbleet place on all the earth : 
Richest land In IntrlDSIc worth ; 
For there Is no bettsT kind ot wealth 
Iban the undoing riches of perfect health. 

Water tbe pnrest. In rippling rills. 
Coming down from the pine-ctad hliu ; 
Fir trees standing like columns tall. 
Hills round about, a verdant wall. 

For the praise ot mOQ th( 
Belter than othera. bj al 
This Olympia City— "Hon 



" in Victoria 
Vancotsver bland 

By Agnes Dean Cameron, 

(Associate Editor of "Educational Journal of 

Weetem Canada/* and Principal of South 

Park School, Victoria, B. C. 


Oa our streets today all is bustle and sup- 
pressed excitement; in the Chinese quarter 
the thousands of residents demonstrate by 
gala dress and festive fire-works their iden- 
tity with the four hundred millions of an- 
other empire over-seas. 

From merchant prince to coolie cook no 
Chinaman works today nor yet tomorrow. 
Kong Hoe Fat Tsoil Kong Hoe Fat Tsoi! 
the New Year's greeting rings out on every 
street corner. The laundrymen, gardeners, 
and hawkers of vegetables are scarcely rec- 
ognizable in their "Sunday clothes/* richest 
Bilk coats of the latest approved cut, red but- 
tons in reckless profusion, blue, flowing 
gowns, and pantaloons of eye-aching green, 
all one great riot of color, make up "John's" 

A ceaseless fusilade of bombs and fire- 
crackers appease the Devil, and safely scare 
off spooks, hobgoblins, and psychic vampires, 
while the squeaky notes of Chinese fiddles 
and that other awful instrument, a hybred 
between the bagpipes and a French horn, add 
their soothing influence. 

The mean wooden shacks of the Chinese 
quarter, the dingy and narrow alley-ways, 
and underground passages, inky and unsav- 
ory, seem to have poverty written all over 
them. Open but a door — and each one today 
is inscribed with the wish, hoi mun tai kat — 
may good luck attend him who opens! — and 
what a blaze of light and wealth of color is 
disclosed! The host, gorgeously decked and 
dignified, presides, and with stately bow 
proffers huge cigars, nuts, sweetmeats, and 
wine. Chinese lanterns, flowers of tinsel, 
crimson silk draperies, scrolls with prophetic 
hieroglyphics, and over all an odor com- 
pounded of sandel-wood, sacred lilies and 
opium fumes give a truly Oriental setting 
to the whole, the effect upon the caller is 

It is to the young men, not to the ladies 
of the house that you present your visiting 
card, a red banner as big as a poster, as 
bowing and scraping, you proceed to shake 
hands with yourself, and wish yourself sz 
yue tak sam ying ahan^ i. -e., good luck and 
everything else you may set your heart on. 

Cninese New Tear is a movable feast. 
Their time "goes fast" for three years, and 

every fourth year they take In an intercalary 
month to even up. Another peculiar feature 
about their time calculation is their method 
of counting ages. If a child is born, say on 
New Year's eve, he will be two years old on 
New Year's morning, and by the time the 
first anniversary of his birth comes round 
he is said to be three years old. 

Pearline, or the Chinese equivalent for it, 
and elbow grease iare much in evidence on 
the eve of New Year. Faithful followers of 
Hung Foo Tiz' (Confucius) clear out all 
dirt, destroy all brooms, and pay all debts 
before the last stroke of midnight rings down 
the curtain on the dying year. Oysters, mus- 
sels, clams, all bivalves are freely eaten; 
they are symbolic of "double" or compound 
Interest on all mining propositions, lottery 
ventures, and opium deals. 

In the homes and shops everything is in 
gala dress. All business is suspended, every 
one appears in holiday attire, the walls are 
gaily decorated with pictures and scolls; 
these scrolls, printed in Chinese characters, 
are arranged in pairs and convey the season's 
greetings. For example, here is one: 

''Bock sin ying Kan Sing 
Kam yat shi Ban Ning.*' 
"Last night was still Old Year, 
But today New Year is here." 

Princes, high officials, mandarins, knock 
at doors, but you must not — it would on 
your part be claiming an undue importance. 
So just open the door, walk in, and bowing 
low exclaim, "Si si yue, tak Sam ying sho," 
"May you have all you desire." Your wish 
will be answered by a cordial "Sing tso, sing 
tso," "be seated, pray." 

To EJuropean ideas "the" New Year's cus- 
tom most to be envied and emulated is the' 
one which bids every faithful son of Confuc- 
ius pay up his debts like a little man before 
the bells "ring out the old, ring in the new." 
The New Year must begin a new sheet on 
everybody's ledger. So the rhyme has It: 

*'8ok ye yat tu mo shin 
Kam chin moo chun fing.*' 
"Last night all was worry and con- 
fusion ; 

This morning is full of happiness." 
New Year's week is the one time John 
relaxes, and In any way approaches an air 
of abandon — on all other occasions he is 
stoical. It is not as an Oriental fire-fly that 
we see him praying in his joss-house, being 
entertained at his theater, or burying his 



dead. Jostling one another on the crowded 
streets, the poor and the rich; "fat sleek- 
headed men and such as sleep o' nights;" 
picturesque children, dear, quaint little bits 
of decorative china in their parti-colored 
suits of velvet green and crimson; the great 
blue-denim-clad army; here and there a 
pinched beggar picking a scanty breakfast 
out of a garbage barrel, in their daily work 
mixing with the white population, but ere 
nightfall gathering back into Chinatown, in 
every grade of their society the one attitude 
common to every individual is reserve, a se- 
vere keeping to himself, a hard-and-fast bar- 
rier confronting the curious European who 
would penetrate the veil. John attends strict- 
ly to his own business, and he bids you do 
the same. 

Although "John" has been living with us 
for many decades, he is not one whit less 
an Oriental than when he first stepped off 
the steamer's gang-plank and — (bundle on 
back, a big question-mark in each almond 
eye, and guiltless of one word of English)— 
his queen cramped feet took their first steps 
on British soil. The Jap is readily off with 
the old love and on with the new, but not 
so the Chinaman. His blue blouse and baggy 
trousers are of unmistakable Eastern cut, 
his dried fish, smoked goose and evil-smell- 
ing table messes are his own especial brand ; 
and they, too, must come from Hong-Kong. 

When John Chinaman has that tired feel- 
ing, or that full feeling after eating, or sci- 
atica, or clergyman's sore throat or the bi- 
cycle face, or (perchance) housemaid's knee, 
no one but a brother Celestial must prepare 
his blisters and his boluses. A Victoria 
Chinese drug store not long since bore the 
legend, "Wanted for cash a very many lot 
of bares harts or deeres harts or other an- 
imals there harts!" It seems that, unknown 
to us, deeres' "harts" and "other animals 
there harts" have occult virtues. If you eat 
an animal's heart, you divert its courage into 
your own personality. 

In this little comer of a Canadian city we 
have the whole Chinese empire in miniature. 
Every scale of society is here represented*, 
rich merchants whose checks for $10,000 or 
$20,000 are honored by the local banks at 
any time without question; shivering beg- 
gars, all protruding bones and hungry eyes, 
whose faces haunt one for days; bright-eyed 
children in kaleidescope clothing, playing 
their games on the streets of Chinatown or 
wandering hand in hand into the city prop- 
er, eying the lay figures in the tailor shop 
windows, and no doubt with awe consideribg 
them strange gods of the English; again in 
the mission schools with slate pencil and 

copy-book taking up the "white man's bur- 
den" of multiplication tables and common 
nouns. Old and young, rich and poor, at- 
tractive and repulsive, they crowd the 
houses, penetrate underground cellars and 
overflow into the alleyways. From time to 
time an unfortunate leper is discovered, and 
is immediately spirited away by the authori- 
ties to an isolated lazaretto — Darcy Island, 
in the Gulf of Georgia. 

The Chinaman is an inveterate gambler; 
he gambles with cards and with dominoes; 
he plays "chuckluck" and he glories In lot- 
teries, and in this last with more or less at- 
tempt at secrecy the whites covertly join 

On festive occasions ^Chinatown is gay 
with the national tri-cornered dragon-flag in 
richest tints of orange, buff and yellow; but 
when Victorians rejoice over South African 
victories or in official visits of princes of 
the royal blood, "John" produces Union 
Jacks, builds celebration arches and sets 
champagne flowing. 

Last Sunday a queer group might be seen 
on a Chinatown corner. Out on the street 
were ten or twelve converted Chinamen in 
black European suits and uncomfortably 
high white collars;* they were conducting 
what seemed to be a Methodist revival serv- 
ice in mingled Chinese and English. One, 
apparently the class leader, indulged in gy- 
rations, gesticulations and terrible tea-box 
language to the high ediflcation of the audit- 
ors facing him on me curbstone edge — In- 
dians, "mean whites," little Jewish children 
and his own fellow-countrymen. The sing- 
ing was of Chinese words set to a Methodist 
camp meeting tune, but the leading tenor, a 
Chinese schoolboy attired in golf trousers 
and a yachting cap, proud of his English, 
sent his vocal praise heavenward thus: 
"O wondrous was the flow 

Which made me white as snow, 

O a wonderful Savior is Jesus." 

We have seen the Chinaman land, we have 
spent New Year's day with him, shared his 
worship and played the lottery at his elbow. 
Now, as fits the sorry scheme of things, we 
will be mourners at his funeral and so ring 
down the curtain. 

In front of the hearse are outriders bearing 
wands, and clad in white. On the driver's 
seat of the hearse sits one of the chief 
mourners throwing perforated paper — pray- 
ers to the devil. The theory is that the evil 
spirits must thread their way through the 
holes of each paper scattered by the way, 
and so the corpse makes time sufficient to 
be properly interred before the devil and his 
angels catch up. 



Chinee e holding advanced posltlone in 
tb«lr many secret aocietieB, oflOcialB and men 
of high degree are accorded great pomp, 
and display in their funeral rltee, 1 bave 
occasion to remember, especially, the funeral 
ol a noted Highbinder who was buried some 
years ago. for. unwillingly enough, I formed 
part of the procession. I was taken close 
up to the cortege by curiosity, and kept there 
by tbe will of my horse, who. prancing along 
at a respectful distance from the mounted 
mourners, wltb military precision kept step 
to the strains of sackbut and psaltery, the 
bagpipes and squeaky fiddles of the Chinese 

At a Chinese funeral do one weeps; calmly 
and as a matter of business detail they 
watch the Interment, bum the funeral 
tapers and paper prayers, oiler burnt sacrl- 
flcea and oblations on the altars — and after 
it Is all over, with the utmost deliberation 
and aaiig froid. take tbe bart>ecue of roast 
pigs, rice and holy fat cakes back to China- 
town, and proceed to eat wltb relish tbe 
offering Just made to the dead. When the 
writer was a school girl, the custom was 
to leave the sweet-meats, pork and cigar- 
ettes, on the altar, so that tbe dead might 
arise In the night and regale himself. The 
small boy and tbe Indiana, bating to see tbe 
play flag or go by default, helped along the 
disappearance act quite cheerily. As a check- 
mate, the Chinamen dead and the Chinamen 
living have evidently come to some mutual 
agreement, and tbe festive small boy, like 
Lord Ullln in tbe old ballad, is -left lament- 

As an accompaniment to the funeral 
chaatfl and prayers of tbe Chinese, and the 
running fire of Irreverent criticism of the 
ever-present small boy Is tbe sound of the 
surf upon the beach, for not twenty feet 
away from this strange rite Is the broad Pa- 

cific— In summer smiling In the sunlight, ab- 
solutely inaudible or lapping In on the sand 
with a soft whispering caress; In winter, 
rolling In Its white-capped waves, wetting us 
wltb its spray, an occasional foam-bell his- 
sing Into ttie altar flres. 

The Chinaman, glum and stoical as he 
looks, often, In repartee will score one on his 
surprised white brother. "I say, John, when 
do you expect your dead man to come up 
and smoke those cigarettes?" Quick as a 
flash, wltb Just an imperceptible slanting 
of the lid over one almond eye. comes tbe 
rejoinder, "Same lime your flend (friend) 
come up smell um flowers!" 

But tbe end of the funeral ceremonial Is 
not yet Some thousands of miles across 
the Paclflc is China, where the bones of all 
faithful followers of Confucius must finally 
rest. In due season, wben decay and time 
bave done their work, the bones of all bur- 
ted Chinamen are resurrected, scraped, re- 
uoxed and shipped "home." 

Not long ago some local offlctala got word 
of a wholesale smuggling deal. Tbe Chinas 
men concerned were said to have tbelr plant 
In an old cabin near the beach. The place 
was surrounded, and sure enough glints of 
light shone through tbe cracks of door and 
barred-up windows, subdued sounds of talk- 
ing were heard within and something was 
evidently under way. With visions of prize 
money and professional kudos, the officials 
burst in. to find a group of busy Chinese 
diligently scraping a shipload of bones tor 
transshipment to China! 

What becomes of (hem there, whether 
more punk, prayers, papers, pork and pro- 
pitiation follow, I know not. There is an In- 
evitable "thus far and i o farther"- with those 
strange people who are In our city, but not 
of it— an Integral part of our population 
and yet no less surely a people apart. 


Bi Pma Fau«t. 



Did I ever tell you ot my visit to the 
mayor's office? 


Well, the most Insolent in the presence 
of diEDlty grow harmless, bo yesterday at 
the Instigation ot my friend and patron, 
Sneezer, I besought the company of the 
mayor to voice the aentlmentB ot a portion 
of my constltuentB who are opposed to the 
vending of soda water without gas In it. 

A great man abows tls Buperiority by his 
conduct in the face of overwhelming oppo- 
sition. Ab I WHS ushered before his honor 
the Importance of my mlselon dawned upon 
me. The man ot nerve welcomes the test 

ot his strength, and I tingled with emotion 
as I Btood before the mayor. 

Deliberation la the iDdlcatlon of an evenly 
balanced dlBposltion; outward calm Is the 
disguise ot a timid Inclination. The mayor 
continued writing a letter and apparently 
did not notice me as I was ushered tn. For 
several moments I stood In expectant el- 
lence, the only noise being the scratching 
of the mayor's pen. 

"When deliberation becomes wanton It is 
liable to terminate in insult," I thought to 
myBelf, when the man at the desk suddenly 
turned around and leveled his piercing gaze 
upon me. 

Untrained spectators usually observe the 
unimportant minutia and remain oblivious 
to the greater particulars. 1 found my eyes 
riveted upon the swollen form ot a half- 
masticated cigar which bulged from one 
side ot his honor's moutb and protruded its 
unlit proportions from the bush ot his un- 
combed mustache. 

The largest apples often have a massive 
core. The great mass of shaggy curls that 
graced the mayor's head reminded me ot a 
Malayan and I was about to make a remark 
about the Philippines, when the mayor said: 

"What do you want?" 

The thunder ot a tropical rainstorm was 
mild in compariaon to the roar ot those 
words. Verily, the suction ot a bath tub 
waste pipe is greater In proportion to the 
size ot the hole. When a woman says she 
wants nothing she means it, but a man- 

"I come as a friend, not as a beggar," I 

"A man's friends are often the moat vora- 
cious beggars." he returned. 

" 'TIs true," 1 answered, "If he has not 
already become a pauper, for beggars never 


stop to w«g their tale ol woe to tbose wbo 

Never muddy a pool It you desire to book 
tlHh with Buccees. The mayor's countenance 
appeared in a moment as. if he had washed 
his face. His lady-cbsrmers arose from his 
rordttead and stood up like the bristles on 
as angry dog's back. The unlit, half-chewed 
cigar was carefully removed and held in the 
Sngers of hie right hand. His cheeks sud- 
denly putFed but like the Jowls of a baby 
sick with the mumps. 

The brightest lightning flash Is not al- 
ways followed by the loudest thunder, nor Is 
the heaviest rain presaged by the blackest 
clouds. I was about to remark that the 
weather was very cold for this season of 
the year, when he, leaning toward me, whls- 

"Wliat did you say?" 

"That I have a signed request to present 
to your honor In regard to " 

"D the request!" he broke In, as his 

(see resumed its dirty appearance and the 
wind blew through the orifice beneath bis 
nose with such a velocity as to put his 
Tront teeth In danger of being expelled, 
"don't the people know that I am mayor?" 

A friend with advice Is an enemy in dls- 
gnlse. so I endeavored to act unadvisedly by 
saying : 

"Without speaking ofOcially, I should re- 

A man becomes a beast when he forgets 
hie breeding. I can never forget the great 
lines of swollen veins that stood out on the 
mayor's forehead. His hair-coated cocoaaut 
seemed like an overcharged balloon tugging 
at its anchor to get away. I momentarily 
expected an explosion as I saw It wag at 
the end of his vertebrae. With keen dili- 
gence I perceived the exit. 

Hy knees seemed to be taken with a desire 
for hasty action. With a dull thud the sa- 
tlvs-Eoaked cigar fell to the floor. I seemed 
(o be lifted on the wings of the wind with a 
great noise surrounding me In a dense va- 

por of tobacco-stained breath out of which, 
when I was able to hesitate two blocks 

away, I gathered the words, "Then, d n 

you, go and tell 'em!" 

Not to be deceived, I sought a telephone 
and ashed if the mayor was in, to which the 
I'eply came back, "We heard he was In Just 
a moment ago and that be Is busy." 

A wise man never wastes words with 
explanations. A Italloon with ever so heavy 
a charge of gas, after It goes up, will come 
down. Because of hia own noise a bluffer 
never hears what Is going on around blm. 
Windy weather never continues long at one 
time. It takes more than wind to put out 
the flres of public Indignation. Blustery 
weather raises nothing but destruction. 






Synopsis op Pbiob Chaptebs. 

Chapter I. — The Early History of the Scratcher 
Family. Chapter II. — In the Home of Wilson 
E. Cloud — Accident Making Little Lizzie a Crlp- 

file for Life — Death of Mr. Cloud — Collection of 
nsurance Policies — Mrs. Cloud's Intimate Rela- 
tions with Mr. Scroggs, Attorney. Chapter III. — 
In the Law Office of Scroggs & Bluff — The 
Settlement of the Matterson Case Against Dick 
Scratcher — Dick Beginning the Study of Law in 
the Office of Scroggs & Bluff. Chapter IV. — The 
Wages of Sin — Blanche Matterson Deserted by 
Dick Scratcher — Blanche Goes Bast to Michigan. 
Chapter V. — Dick Scratcher Studies Law with 
Scroggs & Bluff — His Uncle Gives Him Charge of 
His Timber Land — ^The Letter from Blanche. 
Chapter VI. — The Story of the Find of Gold in 
Klondyke — Scroggs & Bluff, with Dick, Organize 
"The Klondyke Company" — The Rush North — Seat- 
tle Booms. Chapter vl. — The People Coming to 
Seattle — ^The Trip of Michael Sears to Seattle 
and His Meeting Blanche — The Anxiety of Dick 
after He Had Gotten His Uncle to Sign a Note 
for $20,000 Instead of a Contract — Micnael Sears 
Takes Desk Room with Scrons & Bluff. Chapter 
VIII. — Blanche at Home with Her Parents — The 
Answer to Blanche's Letter — Mother Matterson, 
**My Blanchie, he is fooling you; Dick Is only 
fooling" — ''Mother, I love him, for all the pain he 
caused me.*' Chapter IX. — Mr. Matterson's de- 
scription of the Seattle Fire. Chapter X. — Some 
Characteristic Happenings in the Home of Dick 
Scratcher — ^The Plot to Have Michael Sears 
Drugged in a Variety Theatre. Chapter XI. — 
Beginning of Michael Sears' Church Relations in 
Seattle— Description of a Seattle Gambling 
House. Chapter XII. — Pen-picture of an Old- 
Time Variety Theatre in Seattle — The Drugging 
of Michael Sears — The Mighty Power. Chapter 
XIII. — Endeavor to entrap Blanche. Michael Sears 
elected S. S. Supt. XIv. — Michael Sears meets 
Ruth Tildon. XV. — The Note Case. XVT.— A 
small amount of fruitbearing. XVII. — Michael 
Sears is given a room at Mrs. Cloud's house. The 
rush of Blanche to commit suicide. The voire of 
the Mighty Power. XVIII — The pathway of love. 
Description Mt. Rainier. XIX — Concerning the 
practice of law. Blanche Matterson working in a 
restaurant. XX — Mrs. Cloud allows Michael Sears 
to remain at her home. Mrs. Cloud tries to keep 
Michael frcnn the church fair. Will it be Mrs. 
Cloud or Ruth Tildon who marries Michael Sears? 
XXI — Michael proposes to Ruth Tildon and Is ac- 
cepted — Suit is begun against Dick by Mrs. Cloud. 
XXII — Dick enlightens Mr. Tildon, Ruth*s father, 
about Sears' past history — Ruth sent off to Boston 
to school — Michael made editor of church paper. 
XXIII — Mrs. Cloud grows very kind to Mr. Sears 
— Prissle Mai gets present from Dick — Dick elect- 
ed to the legislatTire — Dick buys Blanche a bicycle 
— The Preacher has a talk with Dick and learns 
of Michael Sears and the theatre episode — Trouble 
hrews. ChapterXXIV. — Christmas Amenities — Mr. 
Sears Dips Into Politics — Friction Between the 
Church Authorltiea and the Sabbath School Su- 
perintendent. Chapter XXV. — Some inner His- 
tory of Church Politics -The Church Paper Cre- 
ates Excitement. 


"What? Is that so?" exclaimed Mr. Lay- 
man, when Michael Sears told him about 
the paper and the manner in which Dr. 
Chaser was acting. 

"Yes, sir; it is," replied Sears. 

*Then I stop right now and here!" ho 
ejaculated, with anger growing into a tower- 
ing rage. "Write up an editorial and tell 
how, when be had the paper, he ran it into 
debt; and how he once put in as business 
manager a thief, and how he promised him- 
self to pay the deft and then afterwards re- 
fused! The scoundrel! The lying hypo- 
crite! He robbed me and my little boys 
and my old father of all the savings of a 
lifetime, when he wrecked a bank — yes, he 
did ! And he stood in front behind the coun- 
ter a day before the bank closed its doors 
and said to my father's inquiring, as he 
brought the money in, 'The bank's as strong 
as the rock of Gibraltar!' and he knew at 
the very time it was going to break! And 
when you write the article up tell how we 
paid money into the church treasury and 
into the music fund, and when you have 
said that, say that we quit, now and here! 
Then bring the article to me! I will put 
my name to it!" 

The article was written and signed. Be- 
fore publishing it, Michael Sears submitted 
it to the printer and asked if that part about 
the debt were true. The foreman and two 
in the office came up and said: 

**Every word in it about the debt is true." 
The next Sunday morning Mr. Willing- 
worker and Dr. Chaser were thrown into a 
high state of madness over the following: 

The present manasement of this paper with this 
issue ceases. For the space of seventeen months 
prior to the beginning of the present management 
this paper had not been issued, because of an un- 
paid printer's bill amounting to $107, guaranteed 
by Dr. Chaser and Mr. wTlllngworker, while It 
was being incurred. The bill remains unpaid to 

This story besran In the September number. 



this day, and the promise of guarantee is now de- 

Last November Mr. C. A. Layman, upon his per- 
sonal responsibility, rehabilitated the paper, tak- 
ing upon himself the payment of all obligations, 
and at the same time Michael Sears, at the earnest 
solicitation of the preacher and Mr. Layman, was 
prevailed upon to undertake the editorship, both 
Mr. Layman and Mr. Sears having no remuneration 
whatever in a pecuniary way for their services, 
which were performed, as a Christian duty, with 
pleasure and for the welfare of the church. 

Since the present management have had control, 
in addition to paying all the expenses incurred, 
notwithstanding the free distribution of the pa- 
per, the paper has paid into the general church 
fund $46 and into the music fund $16. 

Several weeks ago Mr. Wiilingworker and Dr. 
Chaser saw fit to object to an article which ap- 
peared in the paper for which the editor alone 
held himself responsible. The matter was brought 
before a meeting of the board. Unknown to the 
editor and without his being given an opportunity 
of defense, those present passed a vote of censure 
condemning him and appointing Dr. Chaser to 
oversee and censor what items were published 
other than mere news of church work, to which 
the present management would not submit. 

The present management have at ail times, in 
all ways, to their utmost, endeavored to publish a 
paper which would be a credit to the church and 
a valuable medium for the spreading' of the Gos- 
pel of Jesus Christ. We have endeavored at all 
times to hold up the hands of our noble and 
worthy minister, whose work here in Seattle has 
been verily blessed of God. We have labored 
earnestly and persistently for a high standard of 
Christian living and an active and growing interest 
in church work. We have endeavored to cheer on 
in every effort made to advance, and to encourage 
in times of despair. We have always aimed to 
cultivate an enduring hope and trust in the ulti- 
mate achievement of a permanent church home 
free of debt and weekly filled with congregations 
of worshippers. We have done the best we knew 
how to speak out for the blessed religion of Jesus 
Christ with an earnest zeal ever uppermost for 
the speedy and wholesome victory of the Risen 
Lord, the Holy Nazarlne, the Loving Savior. 

However, we feel that, under present existing 
circumstances, our labors are in vain, and we 
turn over into other hands to be attempted, what 
our love of the Master prompts us to long to do 
ourselves. We thank those who have given us 
words of encouragement — mav God bless you ! — 
and the liberal advertisers, who have so willingly 
given us their patronage. For those who follow 
us, we wish success and only regret that we can- 
not continue the work ourselves. 

C. A. LAYMAN, Business Manager. 


A board meeting was at once called by Mr. 
Wiilingworker for the following Monday 
night. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Fri- 
day nights were board meetings held. It 
leaked out that some most exciting debates 
were being held behind those closed doors. 
A church trial was hinted at. Many of the 
members and friends of the church made it 
their pleasure to shake hands with Mr. 
Sears and to congratulate him that he had 
the courage of his convictions. On the oth- 
er hand, the enemies of Mr. Sears went 
abroad fomenting a bitter feeling against 
him. Mr. Wiilingworker, Dr. Chaser, Mr. 
Speculator and the preacher went diligently 
to work spreading the seed of hatred and 
malice against him. It was a testing time 
and a battle royal was on against Michael 
Sears to drive him out of the church and 

at the same time not cause a disruption. 
The Saturday evening following the appear- 
ance of the editorial relinquishing manage- 
ment, Mr. Speculator made it his business 
to call upon Mr. Sears and in the attitude of 
a friend advise with him, although he was 
his enemy. He said to Sears: 

"This is a terrible thing— this fight you 
have started! You should never have print- 
ed the article as you did." 

"Wasn't it true?" Sears asked. 

"Yes; but, it isn't always best to tell the 
truth, you know!" 

"Well, how can we quiet the matter 

"You go before the board and say you 
regret publishing it and then offer your res- 
ignation from the Sabbath school for the 
action of the board, and I think I am safe in 
saying that that will end the matter." 

"Ah, Mr. Speculator! I do regret It! See- 
ing how it has aroused a fight! But, after 
working to bring the Sabbath school up to 
its present size, I should hesitate to leave 
the work — I should hate to lay down my duty 
and see the school go to pieces." 

"But they may not want to accept your 
resignation, and it would sflow your Chris- 
tian spirit The selection of your successor 
will be left to a vote of the school, and if 
they should re-elect you, it would vindicate 
you. If the school wants you, they will re- 
elect you." 

"Well, then," replied the fair and square 
Michael Sears, with a sigh of resignation, 
"if it will bring about harmony, I am per- 
fectly willing to go before the board and do 
as you say. You can tell them that for me!" 
for he well knew that the school would stand 
by him to the last, if they were permitted 
to have anything to say in the matter. 

"And then," continued Mr. Sears, after a 
few moments of silence, "if you write out 
and sign a letter to the board, as you indi- 
cate, will they publish it in the paper?" 

"Yes, I think they will, and be glad to 
do so," replied Mr. Speculator. 

"Then tell them that I will do it," said: 
Michael Sears, and the two parted. 

On the morrow the only teacher not in 
her place was the preacher's wife and, whea 
Mr. Sears walked up to her and asked her 
if she would please take her class, she 
snapped : 

"No! I won't, today!" 

That evening after the church services, 
when Michael Sears was talking church mat- 
ters over with her husband, at his home, she 
brushed into the room and in great show of 
indignation and warmth said: 

*I think Dr. Chaser neglected his duty. 



in not looking over wliat went 4nto the pa- 
per last week. It was a vile, low, mean, 
contemptible and scurrilous trick to print 
such a vicious attack on such two good, con- 
secrated and Christian gentlemen as Mr. 
TVillingworker and Dr. Chaser. It shows the 
malicious and depraved spirit which prompt- 
ed the act." ♦ 

On the Monday evening following, Mr. 
Sears received a telephone summons to come 
to the meeting of the board. Licaving Liz- 
zie and her mother he went out into the 
rainy night to the church. 

"Is you going to quit being superintend- 
ent?" asked Lizzie as he put on his things 
preparing to go. 

**r don't know, Lizzie," he replied. 

"I don't want you to. Lizzie wants you to 
stay superintendent. Mamma, don't let him 
quit; he is such a good superintendent! 
I won't go any more if he quits!" cried the 

But Michael Sears went out into the 
depths of the darkness and was lost in the 
night — the dark and stormy night. 



When Michael Sears arrived aX the church 
he found a .worn and weary body of men 
awaiting him. Breaking an embarrassing si- 
lence which lasted for some moments after 
his entrance, while all eyes were centered 
upon him, the preacher addressed him: 

"Mr. Speculator has told us what you told 
to him last Saturday evening, and we have 
sent for you ta see what you have to say for 

"All I have to say, gentlemen," he then 
spoke, looking around upon the haggard and 
disconsolate gathering, and uttering his 
"Words in an unnatural and forced accent, "is 
this: I regret very much publishing the ar- 
ticle as I did, and am willing to write an 
article to that effect, over my own signa- 
ture, for publication in the paper." 

"That's fair enough!" spoke up one of 

"Then write it," said the preacher. 

He then sat down at the table and wrote, 
with the preacher's own fountain pen, on the 
preacher's own paper: 

"'To the Board of the Church, Seattle, Wasbing- 


'UJentlemen — At the suggestion of one of your 
number, permit me to convey to you the fact that 
I feel, upon consideration of the subsequent hap- 
penings to the publication of the article setting 
forth my relinquishing the editorship of the church 
paper, that the article, as it was written and pub- 
lished, was ill-advised and that I regret its publi- 
cation very much, and deeply and sincerely hope 
that no evil will result to the detriment of the 
church work and the advancement and success 
of the work In the Sabliath school. It is my 

earnest desire that cool judgment and sober 
thought will Bee some way in which difflcultlefl 
and disagreements among the members of our 
beloved church can and will be avoided." 
As Michael Sears sat at the table writins* 

Mr. Speculator came up behind him and 

looked ov^ his shoulder. The writing was 

scarcely ended when he cried out: 

"But he does not state that the article 
which was published was false!" 

"Read it aloud," said the preacher. 

When it was read Dr. Chaser spoke up: 

"It isn't proper to mention difliculties and 
disagreements among the members; we 
have no disagreements now!" 

"Why!" exclaimed one of them, in a quiet 
and subdued tone, "that's Just what we're 
here now to settle!" 

"Are you willing to resign from the Sab- 
bath school?" asked the preacher. 

"Yes, I am willing, if it is the wish ot the 
board and for the best interests of the 
church, to put my resignation in the latter, 
also, that you may have the opportunity 
of passing upon it," he replied. 

"Then write it," said one of them; when, 

turning again to the table, he wrote, adding 

it to what he had already written: 

*'In pursuance of the expressed opinion of sev- 
eral members of your body, that should my resigna- 
tion as superintendent of the Sat>bath school be of- 
fered for the action of your venerable and esteemed 
board, in that even further unpleasantness will 
cease and harmony be restored, to the end that 
peace will result and the best and highest inter- 
ests of the church be subserved, notwithstanding 
the sorrow of my heart in relinquishing so en- 
joyable a labor of love and in abandoning what I 
have tenderly and unceasingly labored to build up. 
I hereby tender to you for your prayerful and 
faithful consideration my resignation as saperin- 
tendent of the Sabbath school, although my heart 
aches in giving up that great and grand work 
which I believe has been nurtured and blessed of 
our Lord and Master, Jesus Christ. 
"Yours in Christian Love 


"Gentlemen," said he, when he had con- 
cluded, "I have labored hard to make the 
school successful, and I believe God has 
blessed my work. During the period of my 
connection with the school I have formed 
a fond attachment to those dear ones, who 
have been under my leadership. I have, 
with heartfelt pleasure, seen numbers of 
them, from time to time, come into the 
church communion. I find it hard, very 
hard, tq do this; it is giving up a labor of 
love, which I enjoy; but, believing the school 
will show their confidence in me and appre- 
ciation of my labors in their midst by re- 
electing me, and being willing to abide the 
will of the majority, under God's guidance, 
I hand you my resignation. I anticipate its 

"And will you let tne matter drop and not 
talk about it, or do anything further if ac- 
cepted?" asked one of the men. 



"I will say for myself that I will do and 
say nothing; but, I beg of you, do not hold 
me accountable for what my friends may do. 
You do not expect me to control them, do 
you?*' said Michael blears. 

"No, we would not expect that!" broke in 
the elderly, fatherly member. 

"But the letter does not state that the ar- 
ticle is false!" again insisted Mr. Specu- 

"It goes far enough to suit me, Mr. Chair- 
man/' interrupted Mr. Willingworker, at this 
point in the proceedings. "It is all we can 
expect, now." 

"Gentlemen," then spoke Mr. Sears, see- 
ins tliat his veracity was impugned, "I can- 
not say it is false; I cannot make liars of 
the ones who gave me the information." 

"Who were they?" asked Dr. Chaser. 

"The printer, his foreman, Mr. Layman 
and yourself," answered Sears. 

"I never said anything of the kind!" ex- 
claimed the doctor, loudly. 

"You told me, doctor," said Mr. Sears, 
addressing him in great coolness and deliber- 
ation, "with your own lips, that the reason 
you would not have anything more to do 
with the paper was because you stood good 
for a bill once, which you were, still morally 
obligated to pay." 

"Wh«i?" asked the doctor. 

"When I first took the paper; when I was 
talking about it with you in your office, 
and when you were approached to become 
the business manager after it had been 
started!" Sears replied. 

"It is not true!" cried the doctor, when 
amidst an uproar a motion was made and 
carried that they adjourn until the next 

After walking through the dark and dis- 
mal night, about half-past ten, Michael Sears, 
with a heavy and downcast heart, reached 
the gate leading into his home. A light 
was still in the window of Mrs. Cloud's sit- 
ting room. tJpon his opening the outside 
door she approached him and asked: 

"Did they accept your resignation?" 

"Not tonight," he replied, adding in a sor- 
rowful tone, "but it looks as if they will to- 

"If they do, Mr. Sears," she then said, "it 
will end all my respect for Christianity — 
after the work you have done for them." 

"Don't say that, Mrs. Cloud," he inter- 
rupted. "If a few men in a church abuse 
their power and authority, it is no reason 
why the gospel of Jesus Christ should bear 
the stigmatism. God is love, and the true 
Christian is overflowing with that love. 
Charity is long suffering and kind, it vaunt- 

eth not itself, is not puffed up, and it cover- 
eth a multitude of sins. Even yet, Mrs. 
Cloud, it may not be accepted, and the work 
will thrive more than ever. It is these test- 
ing times which cement friends one to the 
other and make loyal followers for a perse- 
cuted leader." 

"I wish I had your spirit," she remarked, 
as he turned and went up the stairs to his 

As Mrs. Cloud went back and sat down 
before the fire she thought to herself, "He 
is a noble young man; if he lived with me 
always I could do good and be happy. I 
hope he will triumph." 

On the Saturday following, because the 
board had particularly enjoined him to do 
so before the coming Sabbath, a gray-haired 
father in the church, one of their number, 
came into the office of Michael Sears to see 
him; but found, each time, a notice posted 
on the door telling that the lawyer was at 
the court house. At about five o'clock the 
caller returned and found the young man. 

"Mr. Sears," he began, in a manner be- 
traying discomfiture, and the realization of 
a most unpleasant duty, "I have been select- 
ed by the board to bring you our decision — 
we have accepted your resignation, and " 

"Shall I be permitted to remain in charge 
until my successor is elected?" he inter- 

"That is what I came to tell you — it was 
thought best for you not to do so," was 
the reply. 

"Will there be a class for me to teach?" 
he asked. 

"That was not talked of." the old gentle- 
man continued, "and it was also decided 
not to print your letter to the board." 

"How will the people know why I quit?" 
he queried. 

"That was not considered; you made 
strong friends in the board by your manly 
conduct, Mr. Sears; you showed a noble 
spirit, and acted grandly under very trying 
circumstances. I hope you will make those 
who supported you by your conduct not 
regret the course they have taken in the mat- 
ter," he concluded, shaking hands warmly 
with Mr. Sears and hastily leaving the of- 

"Even so," thought Michael Sears, "but! 
When it comes to a vote of the members of 
the school, I will certainly be vindicated." 



When the church difficulty arose, Mr. Til- 
don at once wrote to his daughter and told 
her all about the matter and then explained 



why it was that he had sent her to Boston 
so hastily and in such an abrupt manner the 
preceding September. He, also, in as plain 
language as was proper and possible, told 
her about Prissie Mai and the conversa- 
tion he had had with Richard A. Scratcher 
about h^r affianced and in a fatherly manner 
pleaded with her to drop from her mind and 
have nothing whatever further to do with 
Michael Sears. At the same time he wrote 
to the matron of the school and told her 
to intercept all correspondence coming to 
his daughter from Seattle, except from him 
or lady friends of Ruth's acquaintance. 

Later, when the resignation ol Michael 
Sears was tendered and accepted, Mr. Til- 
don wrote and told his daughter how, stung 
with the awful consciousness of his own 
guilt, Michael Sears had dropped out as a 
leader in the Sabbath school and that he was 
advised by the preacher that plans were un- 
der way to expel the unworthy brother from 
the church membership. What Miss Ruth's 
thoughts were, the agony of her mind, the 
torture of her heart, the sorrow of her soul, 
at the receipt of his letters and their start- 
ling and most horrible revelations, it is not 
possible or proper for pen to picture or 
speech to describe in words. 

"Dear Michael," as a last resort to still 
her raving and crying heart, "father has 
written me an awful letter about you; do 
write and tell me all! I cannot believe it is 
true; and I must wait until I can hear from 
you before I make my decision!" Then, 
after detailing the statements of her father's 
letter, she concluded: 

"It will break my heart to have the sweet 
dreams of the future shattered, which, ever 
since I have been away from you, have made 
my heart strong to bear our separation and 
have given me the delightful hope of our re- 
union. Do write and tell me that it is not 
so, and that I can live for the day of our 
happy reunion. Your prayers as superin- 
tendent in the Sabbath school, your love 
when we were together, the grand poems in 
the papers which you sent me, all tell me 
that it is not so. I shall not sleep until I 
hear from you. Write! Write soon! With 
love for you, all for you, I am yours, 

"Ruth Tildon." 

Upon the reading of her letter, Michael 
Sears felt his heart chill within him. In a 
dazed and vacant way he stared at her pic- 
ture on his office wall before him. His 
heart was groping in a black despair, and he 
buried his face in his hands and wept bit- 
terly, while his heart cried out in an ago- 
nizing spirit: 

'Oh, God! Oh, God! has it come to this? 


Am I utterly, utterly forsaken?" And then 
the thought came to him to find Prissie Mai. 
Yet, how could he, even then, tell the one 
of his heart the terrible and awful truth? 
During the morning he wrote and then tore 
up his writing. Through the lunch hour he 
wrote and then cast the fragments of his 
composition into the waste basket He 
locked the door of his office and wrote all 
afternoon, but to no purpose. At six, at 
eight, at ten, at twelve he sat there bending 
over his desk, writing, writing, then after- 
wards destroying what he had written. Noth- 
ing! Nothing could he compose and be sat- 
isfied to send. He was wholly undone. 

"If I tell her the truth, I am lost!" he 
thought, "and if 1 do not tell her the truth, 
she will find out the truth and I will be more 
than lost! I must cancel our engagement, 
for I must not deceive her. She is too good, 
too. pure, too, true!" 

After midnight in the quiet, silent hours, 
his head sank upon his arms and he fell into 
an exhausted stupor. As he sat there, the 
vision of her face came up before him — her 
pure sweet face! He saw her put out her 
hands to reach him — her fair hands, so un- 
deflled! He beheld an angelic smile come 
over her features, as she looked at him wist- 
fully with her burning eyes — eyes which had 
seen no sin. He looked down at himself and 
saw a stained, polluted being. 

"Could she be seeking me?" he thought. 
And then! The ruby lips opened — lips which 
had never spoken evil — and he heard her 
clear, sweet voice say to him: 

"•'My dear one, cast down and rejected, 
despised and disgraced, I love you! I love 
you sUll!" 

Awakening, he went out with a throb- 
bing, aching brain and a reeling, anxious 
heart. He sought a restaurant and lound 
one — a little, dingy place which had been 
open all night. No one was at the tables. 
When he sat down he trembled in every 
nerve, exhausted and unstrung. As he sat 
there, eating milk toast, he heard a person 
come in behind him. He noticed a strong 
odor of perfumery. Turning around he was 
astonished to see whom he thought was 
Prissie Mai. She had on a rich silk dress 
and a large hat with ostrich plumes. Her 
face was painted and powdered. She ate 
with her gloves on. The smell of liquor 
came upon her breath. 

"Is this Prissie Mai?" he asked. 

"It is," she responded deliberately. 

Then he sat down and told her about his 
troubles, when she remarked witu stinging 
sarcasm in her voice: 

"Is this the way you Christians do?" 



"Not Christians!" he corrected her — "only 
church members!" 

"And so Dick Scratcher has been at the 
bottom of it all!" she repeated aloud to 
herself, adding: "O, I hate that fellow!" 

"Don't say that you hate him," he replied; 
"you only mean that you hate the evil that 
he has done." 

"Come!" said she, as if suddenly making 
up her mind as to something she had been 
debating with herself. "Where is your of- 
fice? I will write a letter for you, which 
will clear up all; enough wrong has already 
come, when innocent parties are made to 

Going to his office, she wrote a letter and 
when she had addressed it on a blank en- 
velope, which he furnished her, she sighed 
and grew reminiscent. She concluded her 
talk by saying: 

"My real name is Martha Sutherland — 
my stage name Prissie Mai. I have signed my 
stage name to the letter with my real name 
under it. I am tired of this wretched life. 
My parents are church people living in Bos- 
ton — good, honest people. But they were too 
strict And when I came out to this West- 
em country I drifted away from the church 
— drifted away! My church life was the 
truly happiest period of my life. I haven't 
heard from mother, now, for a long time — 
dear, good woman that she is! I wonder if 
she would receive me now!" 

**A mother's love," remarked Mr. Sears, 

"never, never dies. I warrant you she is now 

praying and longing to see you once again!" 

"Do you think she would forgive me and 

take me back?" the woman queried. 

"As truly as you long to see her, Miss 
Sutherland, only more so!" he replied. 

"And do you think I can be good again?" 
she asked. 

"With the help of God," he answered. 
"Would He help me after all that I have 
done?" she questioned. 

" 'Beheld, I stand at the door and knock/ 
He says, and if any man will hear My voice 
and let Me in, I will come in with him and 
8up with him, and he with Me!'" repeated 
Mr. Sears. 

"Then pray for me, Mr. Sears," she said 
to him; "pray for me, that He will give me 
strength to live aright, that I can see my 
loving mother once again! That I can get 
money to go home! That she will receive 
me! And help me, help me, as you would 
a sister that I do not fail and fall again!" 
Then, without delay, Michael Sears knelt 
in that barren office of his by the side of 
3iartha Sutherland and prayed to the Liv- 
ing God as he had never prayed before, 

after which, with a peaceful smile upon her 
iace, and tears in her eyes, thanking him 
and grasping his hand in hers, she bade 
him good-bye. 

"May God help her to abide by her decis- 
ion!" exclaimed Mr. Sears to himself after 
she was gone. 

The Sunday following the acceptance of 
the resignation of Michael Sears, a long ar- 
ticle appeared in the secular papers telling 
how politics in the church had made a row. 
The preacher, as soon as the matter was 
brought to his notice through the medium 
of Mr. Willingworker and Dr. Chaser, be- 
gan to gather evidence for the purpose of 
expelling Michael Sears from the church. Mr. 
Speculator said: 

"It 4s the young scoundrel's work; he 
wrote the article and had it published!" 
Calling at the office of Mr. Sears on the Mon- 
day morning following, the preacher said: 

"Now, you look here. Sears; we want you 
to stop this business immediately! You 
haven't done as you promised the board; 
but you are going around talking and work- 
ing to disrupt the church! We know who 
wrote the articles in Sunday's papers!" 

"Well, I had nothing to do with it what- 
ever," interrupted Mr. Sears. 

"Yes, you did!" exclaimed the preacher, 
with a nod of his head, "for we know bet- 
ter! And it seems to me that it is very 
poor business for you to be in, considering 
how you came to us and begged to be taken 
up and how we took you up and honored 
you and placed you in high positions in the 
church and " 

"I want to tell you, reverend," broke in 
Mr. Sears, with considerable warmth, "the 
facts are, that you came to me and that 
after a great deal of talk you elected me 
superintendent before I was a member of 
your church! And the letter by which you 
took me in was a letter to another church, 
as the flies will show, if you have kept the 

"Mr. Sears!" cried out the preacher, get- 
ting excited, "I might as well tell you now! 
We have seven charges against you, and if 
you don't cease your scandalous conduct, 
we will publish you in the church and 
write to your folks in the East!" 

"Reverend!" Sears replied, "write!" I 
have nothing to hide from my parents. I 
had nothing to do with the articles you re- 
ferred to, and I am ready for a church trial 
at any time. The sooner the better, for me! 
I have lost all that I have to lose, and I 
await the judgment of God to be vindi- 
cated ! " 

Michael Sears' brain at the time was 



whirling wltb the [acta: that he bad re- 
ceived no letter in answer to his letter to 
Ruth Tlldon, except a letter in which she 
bad stated that she had received a letter 
from PrlsBle Hai and la which she also said 
that she upheld him and that be did no 
wrong which she had not already forgiven; 
also another letter wherein Ruth had begged 
him to write to her and told him that he was 
forgiven; and, on this very Monday morn- 
ing, still another wherein she had besought 
bim to lust write to her one word and had 
told him that she loved him and prayed for 
him io his troubles. 

"Do, dear Ulchael," she bad written in 
closing, "please do write to me and say that 
you love me and that oar future will be as 
we have been expecting. I cannot believe 
that you have forsaken me. Qod knowe that 
you are Innocent. Why don't you write? 
Why don't you love me? I love you — love 
you as when we were together, before I 
went away. I am, dear loved one, yours — 
all yours!" With sll thia flooding through 
his mind, Hlchael Sears exclaimed; 

"Where are your charges and who are my 
accusers?" for now his integrity and honor 
were assailed. 

"Here In this little book I have written 
them down," said the preacher. 

"Ijet me gee them!" he demanded. 

"You cannot see them now!" came the 
reply. '■They are held In secret!" 

"And why so guarded as secret?" he ejacu- 
lated. "I am anilous and ready to meet 
them and meet them now — before the board 
or In an open church trial." 

"You Eball bave an opportunity!" said the 

"And [ hope I shall!" responded Sears. 

Several days after this happening, as Mi- 
chael Sears was waiting for some one to 
take bis order in a restaurant, he was sur- 
prised to see PrisBle Hal come forward to 
serve him. 

"I am BO glad to see you!" exclaimed she. 

"Are you getting along well?" he asked. 

"Yes; and I am saving money to go 
home!" she smiled. 

Prissle MaU What a change. She did 
not have on a gaudy, tinsel dress, nor was 
her presence announced by the odor of per 
fume. Her breath was pure. Her eyes 
were bright. Her step was strong. Her 
countenance had a peaceful, contented look 
upon It, although she did appear to be tired 
and sorrowful. Yet hope buoyed her up, a 
great hope for the future. Thought Mi- 
chael Sears; 

"With God all things are poBSlblel" 

(To be continued.) 


By IIbnby Bubns Gbbb. 

**I8 you beared about de las' coon bunt dat 
'Rastus an' 'Manuel tuk?" 

"No; is dey done had ernudder bunt to- 
gedder? I 'lowed as what dey was mad at 
each udder. What er bout bit, Mose?" 

"Well, bit wus dis way, Ike: You knows 
dat bofe 'Rastus an' 'Manuel bin in lub wid 
'Manda Parkins fer er long time, an* she 
nevah sed as to which one she lub de bes'. 
An' dey jes' lets on as if dey wus de bery 
bes' ob frens; all do dat 'Rastus he mighty 
tricky, an' I done tole 'Manuel to nevah trus' 
him; but 'Manuel he Jes' laff an' say: "O, 
dat's all right." 

**So, de day befoah de cake-wallf wus to 
hab come Gtt at Mistah Prentice's, an' late 
in de ebening, aftah de cotton picken', 'Ras- 
tus he say to 'Manuel like dis: — yo' see dey 
bofe wanted to take 'Manda to de cake-walk, 
an' she had Jes' flirted-lack wid 'em bofe 
an' nevah said to one nor de tudder if she 
would ner she wouldn't, — 'Rastus he say to 
'Manuel, sed he: 'Say, 'Manuel, wat yo' say 
to er coon hunt tonight? I know whar dar's 
er fine place, an' er reg'lar coon tree." 

"Dat wus de truf, fer dat niggah do know 
de woods erbout de plantation bettab dan 
ha'f de preachers know de Bible; while 
'Manuel he is new in dese parts, an' don't 
know whar de 'Simmon . trees is. But, he 
am a han'sum niggah dat 'Manuel am, an' 
dat's why 'Rastus wus afeared ob him erbout 

"But when 'Rastus tole erbout dat coon 
tree, 'Manuel he say: *Dat so, Rastus? Den 
I gess we'll go; Fse got er mighty fine 

"Yo' see, 'Manuel is er good bones' nig- 
gah, an' tnis'ful; an' I'se done tole 'Manda 
dat she bettah git him if her could." 

'Rastus he jes' sorter smile lack, an' 'lowed 
dat he'd meet 'Manuel down back ob de 
gin house, an' dey'd strike out back ovah de 
flel* to whar de 'Simmon trees am.' 'Manuel 
be nevah been out dar befoah, but 'Rastus 
he knowed ebery foot ob de ground' an' 
ebery tree, an' what dar wus in em, — les' it 
war er coon er 'possum. Yo* see, de coons 
dey lack de 'Simmons as well as de 'possum 

"De moon it wus er quarterin' an' er shin- 
in* sorter sof an' dim lack fru de tree tops, 
an' hit war purty hard to see er coon, eben 
in er saplin' 'cept yo' got him twlxt yo' an' 
de moon." 

"Dat sly niggah 'Rastus knowed dat, an' 
hit war what he wus er figgerin' on, when 

he towed 'Manuel out dar. He 'lowed as how 
it was er fine night fer sparkin' an laffed; 
but 'Manuel he Jes' kept right on er lookin' 
fer coons.** 

"When dey got out on de hill ovah back 
ob de ole rail fence, whar dar's some tall 
trees, an' er heaps ob bresh; 'Rastus, who 
has er gun, ses: 'Dar's er coon! Dar's er 

'Manuel he looks all ovah de trees, an' 
he say: "Whar dat coon at? I sees no 

"Den dat onprincipl'd 'Rastus, who I 
'spect had picked dat coon out er week, or 
er month befoah, sez: "Dar he am!" an' he 
pints to de tallest ob de 'Simmon trees, — to 
de top ob hit. 'Manuel he look, an' sho' 
nuff, 'way up In de top, dar he wus, — lookin' 
lack er long gray coon, an' er swingin' lack, 
as if he mout er been er going* to Jump to 
er nudder tree or to de groun'. Yo' see, dey 
wus er sof breeze er stirrin' lack. 

"Den 'Manuel he holler: 'Shoot him, Ras- 
tus! Shoot him afore he kin Jump!' " 

Den dat 'Rastus show his meanness. He 
jes' say: "Yo' shoot him, 'Manuel; an' he 
ban' de gun ovah to 'Manuel. 

"Cos' 'Manuel he nevah 'spects nothin'; 
he thinks dat all right, so he taken de gun, 
an' aftah steppin' er roun' lack, so as ter 
get de coon twixt him an' de moon, he blaze' 
er way." 

"D'rectly he done dat, dat long grey thing 
begin ter cum er bumpin' down fru de llm's 
ob de tree; but, afore bit struck de groun', 
dat sneakin' 'Rastus he say sorter quick 

"Gosh! I ferget somethin'; an' den he jes 
turn an' lit out fer home!" 

"Cose, 'Manuel he 'lowed to hisself dat 
maybe 'Rastus had forgit somethin', and he 
nevah hollered at him, but stayed dar to 
watch de coon. An' as soon as hit hit de 
groun' 'Manuel's dawg Jumped onter hit; 
an' gin to chaw hit. Den d'rectly dat poor 
brute 'gin ter holler, an' tuck out fru de 
woods lack mad!" 

"Manuel, he say to hisself: 'Dis won't do,* 
an' he run up an' hit dat coon wid de stock 
en' ob de gun; an', fore de Lawd! he bus' 
dat coon wide open! Den de debbil wus riz 
in Georgy, fer somethin' dat wus er live riz 
up frum dat coon, an struck dat pore nig- 
gah 'Manuel twixt de eyes mos' as hard as 
er mule could kick! an' d'rectly he got dem 
knocks fastah dan he could count; fo' as 
shoah as yo' is bawn, dat deceivin' niggah 


■Rastua had towed de hlnnercent 'Manuel "Hnh! Wliat'd she aay? She aa? one dem 
out dar to de wooda to shoot down er hor- nlggahs la er rascal an' de udder la er fool, 
net's nea' by de light ob de moon, an' hit an' ahe done ahuck 'em boa! fer Sclp. Prea- 
only er quarterln'. an' dat nes' chuck (ull er 'o"- Sclp. tuck her to de cake-walk. To- 
bull hornets! " ^^^' ''*' *"*''' 'Raatua he 'lowed dat he git 
^ ' . ^, , ^ J , ,^ .„ 'Manuel'a tac« all bung up by dem horneta, 
"Now, what yo think ob dat. Ike? ^^. ^^^ .„^j^ ^j,^ ^ ^^ ^^ ^,„j ^,j i„„ 

■What I think ob dat. Moae? I think dat g^ dar-a whar he gits lef. 'Manda ahe 

beata de debbll! Den. how er bout Manda? g^y she bet no nlggah can (ool Sclp. In er 

What'd she aay?" coon" 

lCific corxTV. 


Druping thy form like oeraphlc drpani- 
ri'om far Ilfllas* plain the Ioht arcrn tirlnaliiK 
Ot srmmetrr'fl pose and the sun gud'e giram 

If laden wltb DowprB. tbou'rt filled with their It 
If ihattered art thou. th« scent lingers bIIII 

\a poet of old Bang of the groBg vagrauce 

That worablppcd thee not, nor treated thee 

Or. If filled wKh tears, alchemy of sorrow. 

Thon glvpst C- '- ■ ■- -' • 

A roseate gleam ; 

From tli; hlushlng Conn which hides the thorn aie 

II on clolBtered slicliea where dwell the old saKes. — 
Then, there Ib thy form, ''mongtt pasnlonB of ages. 

If BlWer or (told, — a chalice for king. — 
If clay of dull earth, thy soul Is a master's^ 
The grace of lliy form an historic thing. 

lond Chief. Oklahoma Terrltorj- K. I'AII, RATHBrN 


Bt Herbert TiAWSBNCS Qbbsne. 

Four years ago a traveler, upon the road 
from Dodgeville to the old Indian reserva- 
tion near there, might have seen what is 
called in Western parlance, a "mover," 
slowly trudging along beside his team, while 
In the high spring seat of the wagon a wo- 
man sat knitting. 

The combination was one which would 
have attracted attention anywhere. The 
team, a mismated pair, consisted of a six- 
teen hundred pound stallion and a thousand 
pound gelding. The animals had but one 
point in common — they both belonged to 
Flint. The harness was worn, shrunken 
and cracked, with frayed ends of broken 
stitches showing here and there, and held 
together by the plentiful use of bits of wire, 
string and strap. The wagon had that 
cracked appearance about the hubs and fel- 
lies which tells the tale of years of use, 
coupled with lack of care, and the wedges 
driven under the tires to keep them from 
falling off corroborated the other testimony. 

In the wagon was a rough deal bedstead 
(one of those round-railed affairs bored for 
ropes, which took the place of slats or 
springs), four or five simple wooden chairs, 
a small cookstove, a table, two trunks, 
buckets, blankets and halters for the horses, 
while fastened behind the wagon, by a rope 
around her neck, walked a lean cow. 

The woman was about forty years old and 
though poorly dressed, was not unattract- 
ive. Her complexion still had a suggestion 
of roses in its otherwise ashen grayness. 
She was not slender, but flat in form, of 
medium height, with black, wavy hair and 
honest, winning dark eyes, which revealed 
the unsophisticated simplicity of the back- 
woods even more plainly than the cut of 
her clothes, which was that of the mountain 
people of Kentucky. Her scrupulous neat- 
ness contrasted strangely with the unkempt 
condition of the man who walked beside 
the wagon. 

He was also a Kentucky mountaineer. He 
appeared to be a man of about fifty years, 
over six feet tall, with keen blue eyes and 
straight black hair, which stood up from his 
head like the quills of a porcupine. His 
beard, the lower end of which bore off to 
the right as if upon a voyage of discovery, 
was fittingly matched by his ragged mous- 
tache, each hair of which rivaled its neigh- 
bors in trying to cut across lots and get into 
his mouth. Conceive him as clad in a 
calico shirt with no collar, an open "jumper" 

of blue denims, a vest of that peculiar yel- 
lowish, sunburned shade which indicates an 
original color of cheap black, jean trousers, 
discolored and torn, and frayed at the an- 
kles, a pair of old cowhide shoes, the whole 
figure capped with a greasy ten hat and 
armed with a willow branch for a whip, and 
you have a fair picture of the master spirit 
of the cavalcade. This had been his appear- 
ance for years and such it continued until it 
was changed by the events related in this 

A widower of some years' standing, he had 
finally looked about him for a wife. In this 
he had labored with some earnestness, but 
with little success. What he needed was a 
wife who could plan his work for him and 
save the fruits of his industry. Accustomed 
during his whole life to making a fair liv- 
ing by hard and continuous work, he had 
come to look upon the world as a treadmill 
and many times made failures through lack 
of ambition and direction. His successes 
had availed him little, for he suffered much 
financial inconvenience at the hands of his 
grown-up sons, whose lazy habits and spend- 
thrift w^ays had frequently brought them 
back to their father for help and had kept 
his finances at the lowest possible ebb for 

At this juncture fate threw into his hands 
a matrimonial paper, and he so worded an 
advertisement for a wife that it caught the 
eye of Mary Ann Dease, a maiden lady of 
forty, who, for the sake of a home, had, for 
twenty years, been the sole companion of 
an aged couple, whom she had just buried. 

Good at heart, patient by training, lonely, 
unsettled and homeless, the advertisement 
of the Methodist deacon, telling of his bad 
qualities as well as reciting his good ones, 
and confessing his utter lack of funds, ap- 
pealed to her as the work of an honest man. 
A correspondence began, proposals were 
made and accepted, and the day before the 
fateful date set for her arrival dawned rainy 
and dull. 

Deacon Flint, not expecting his bride-to- 
be until the next day, thought to take ad- 
vantage of the bad weather, when other 
work was out of question, and complete a 
hauling contract already too long delayed. 
Almost an hour later, in fact, just after 
the train from the E2ast had arrived, Flint 
might have been seen passing the station, 
seated upon a load of fertilizer, as a travel- 
stained woman was slowly picking her way 



through the mud. He stopped his team for 
her to pass, she thanked him. and he drove 

Upon his return, the deacon was informed 
by a friend that a lady was enquiring for 
him at the hotel. With mingled feelings 
of pleasure and fear and with an odd little 
pain at his heart, he went to his lodgings 
and put on his wedding clothes. They had 
done the same service in the mountains 
twenty-five years before, and, .though badly 
motheaten, gave him an appearance which 
was at least picturesque. Blue swallow- 
tail coat with brass buttons, a silK hat of 
that peculiar style shown in the ante-bellum 
pictures of the South; a flowing tie of sky 
blue, a fancy-figured vest with round glass 
buttons, lavender colored trousers, white 
cotton gloves. He was certainly a figure 
that might have stepped from an old comic 
print, his very picturesqueness, however, re- 
lieving the harshness of the caricature. 

Mary Ann's appearance, as she received 
the Deacon, also differed from that which 
she had borne at the station. The old 
clothes which she had worn, in order that 
she might save her "best," and in which she 
was dressed when she encountered the 
deacon in front of the station, were but little 
if any better than his nondescript team- 
ster's costume, save only in the matter of 
cleanliness. She was now quite smart in a 
black cashmere dress, primly fastened down 
the front, a lace collar pinned by an old- 
fashioned brooch, and a bead trimmed 
"store" cape and hat, the purchase of which 
had exhausted her little savings. 

The recognition was mutual, but by tacit 
agreement the former encounter was forgot- 
ten, and the satisfaction they now took in 
each other's appearance was plainly shown. 
They proceeded at once to the parson. 

Three days later they were upon the road 
to Sundown, taking their wedding trip in 
the old wagon, which conveyed all their 
worldly possessions. The reservation had 
just been opened to settlement and their fu- 
ture home was to be somewhere in that 
broad land. Word came to them upon the 
road that a town had been started in the 
interior, and this they made their goal, ar- 
riving there the day following the one upon 
which we first met them upon the road. 

When the Flint estate stopped in front of 
the tent where the townsite office was locat- 
ed, the manager looked up, wondering if 
some small amateur poor-house had been va- 

"What in," he started to ejaculate pro- 
fanely, but changed it to "what can I do for 

you, stranger?" as Flint came forward, hat 
in hand. 

"Want some help to build your town?" he 
drawled, kicking the dust with his foot. 

"I don't know/' hesitated the manager, 
looking over the outfit with a trifle too much 
amusement, '1 fear you are not Just the man 
we are looking for. We want men who can 
build upon the lots we give them." 

"Well, don't judge too quickly. You re- 
member the Good Book says 'and the stone 
that the builders rejected, became the chief 
comer stone of the temple.' " 

The spirit in the remark was wholly at 
variance with the man's slow movements 
and lazy way of speaking and the only thing 
about him that seemed to tally with it was 
the steady light in tae keen blue eyes. 

"What would I have to build to get some 

"Oh, anything of a habitable character. It 
depends largely upon the location you de- 

* "Well, I've no capital except what you see 
here," and his hand traveled slowly past his 
odd equipage until finally it rested with 
strange insistence upon the woman's eager 
and smiling face. "I'd like some good lots— 
what kind of a building do you need most?" 

"We need a hotel more than anything else 
just at present," suggested the townsiter, 
regretting his words as soon as uttered, for 
it seemed unkind to make even a suspicion 
of a jest of the man's impecunious condition. 

"I'll thing it over," said Flint. " 'Up, Pok- 
ey," clucking to the stallion, and the proces- 
sion moved over to the camping place by the 

Two days later Flint accepted the proposi- 
tion and to the complete surprise of the 
townsite company carried it through. A 
merchant in an adjoining town trusted the 
man's eyes for the materials, and Flint was 
to build it himself. 

At first it was but a roof with two shaky 
floors beneath it; walls through the cracks 
of which the sun crept every morning; and 
no partitions. But Flint prospered. He 
worked day and night at any thing he could 
flnd to do, while his wife ran the hotel. 
Mary Ann cooked, sewed, smiled, and scolded 
with equal diligence, and in time their joint 
industry and thought had enlarged and fin- 
ished the Flint House until it counted twen- 
ty comfortable rooms. 

"Old Flint," as he was commonly called, 
was a character, who for one reason or an- 
other, was a standing offense to nearly all 
his acquaintances. He was a truly Godly 
man who had the unhappy faculty of getting 



into more trouble than any two of the un- 
regenerates tn the village. 

To the self-appc^nted Judges of human con- 
duct, who regularly gathered about the 
checker-board in Hallock's store, to criticise 
their fellow townsmen and the government, 
Flint's industry was a personal insult. 

Jim Poindexter, a coal miner by trade, 
finding in the praiHe-Hke character of the 
country, a reason, that did duty as an -ex- 
cuse for his idleness, made a fairly good liv- 
ing by encouraging his wife, who took in 
washing. Jim was conceded quite an exalted 
place among the critics, which might be 
largely accounted for in the fact that he 
usually had on hand a supply of chewing 
tobacco, which he scorned to protect from 
the importunity of a friend, by resorting to 
the customary lie. Jim's words, therefore, 
carried weight. 

" 'Pears like *01d' Flint never done nuthin' 
like anybody else done it. The idee of a 
man haulin' lumber 'til three o'clock in the 
momin'; woke me up this momin' as he 
druv by." 

"Well, what can you expect of a Methodist 
anyhow?" was the query of Smith Curtis, 
whose appetite for Scotch whiskey had ab- 
sorbed so much of his attention, that his 
lamily had been compelled to go home to 
mother's to live — and mother was a Meth-. 

Jake Tatman, whose brain and tongue had 
the Joint reputation of never being on duty 
at the same time, 'lowed "if *01d' Flint told 
the truth, he'd admit that he worked so late 
because he was so tarnation slow that he 
couldn't get through any sooner," a remark 
which at times was true, "and that he didn't 
take no stock in 'Old' Flint's talk about 
working his team at night, in .summer, be- 
cause the flies bothered them in the day- 
time," wherein Tatman was wrong. 

"Judge" Oorham, who, some twenty years 
before, had applied without success for the 
appointment of Justice of the peace, and upon 
that slender basis, had "judged" it ever 
since, wished to speak judicially and held 

" 'Old' Flint is ondoubtedly a hypocrite 
Only this momin', talkin' to me, I pressed 
him hard, and he admitted that under cir- 
cumstances which he might name, he would 
work on Sunday; that, if I fell into a pit up- 
on the Sabbath day, Christ's example would 
compel him to help me out. But I must go; 
there's the train whistlln," and the "judge," 
wholly oblivious of the fact, that the despised 
Flint had had the temerity to call him an 
ass. hustled himself Into his frock coat, and 
arrayed in his most expansive and ingra- 

tiating smile, with pompous strut, ap- 
proached the railway station to impress any 
newly arriving strangers with the fact that, 
in one line at least, the town possessed a 
genuine article. 

The "Judge's" sudden departure rather 
broke up the train of thought. Jim Poin- 
dexter carelessly sauntered out, taking a 
handful of crajdken as be went, while Hallock 
was looking out of the window and Smith 
Curtis was filling his "borrowing" pipe from 
the "poor-box." Flint dropped in for a mo- 
ment, to pay thirty-one dollars on account; 
"he was sorry— had hoped to pay fcwrty, but 
unforeseen circumstances had prevented." 
Tatman, finding the proprietor carelessly un- 
communicative, transferred his immediate 
personal presence and patronage to Sullivan 
— Tatman owed Hallock money, which he 
could not pay, and naturally felt independent. 

As he entered Sullivan's store "Old" Widow 
McFarland's trembling hands were counting 
out nine dollars to pay for the coming win- 
ter's supply of coal for her cabin, — which ex- 
plains Flint's shoitage of Just that amount 
on Hallock's account. 

But with prosperity came trouble. Every- 
one recognized in Flint. an honest man, but 
his slow ways, his unkempt figure, his un- 
businesslike methods, and his readiness to 
espouse unpopular causes made him a sore 
trial even to his friends, who were limited 
to the very few broad-minded men, who saw 
beneath the surface the real metal in the 
man. Flint had been too busy to keep in 
touch with anybody. No one thought of him 
as a citizen. He was Just "Old" Flint. He 
was never really in any gathering he went 
to and seldom attended. He was elbowed 
to the outside and was considered by the 
public as of little importance except when 
heads were counted. In his own hotel pub- 
lic opinion had crowded him so nearly out 
that so far as the world was concerned his 
whole existence seemed that of a fringe. 

The regular weekly class-meeting of the 
Methodist church was the only occasion 
when Flint seemed to rise out of himself. At 
those times he talked with God, and his 
awed hearers sometimes suspected that the 
deacon's week day meekness and forbear- 
ance had root in a deep-seated pity for the 
average of humanity and a supreme con- 
tempt for the world's most cherished pos- 
sessions. That he had plenty of spirit as 
well, Sundown was about to learn. 

With advancing prosperity, ^Mrs. Flint had 
put on a ribbon or two, and so small a part 
had compliments played in her hitherto 
humdrum life, that at a pleasant passing 
comment upon her appearance, she would 



blush like a school-girl and exclaim with 
pleased embarrassment, "Now, you don't 
mean that?" 

A few of the regular boarders at the hotel 
had found it possible to extend the fatal day 
of payment by gracious words to the land- 
lady. Among these was a distinguished 
looking old derelict, of good features, neat 
dress and exaggerated deportment, whose 
former vocation of gambling was denied him 
by his reputation as a card-sharp. The '*col- 
oners" livelihood now depended upon the 
regularity and certainty with which his son, 
a gambler in a distant state, sent him money 
to pay his board. At times his financial ir- 
regularities taxed his landlady's patience, 
and he found it necessary to indulge in the 
grossest flattery to further hoodwink that 
thrifty soul. 

Finding that this method was also begin- 
ning to show signs of wear, he bethought 
himself of the plan of gently holamg up to 
the light, for her condemnation, the unde- 
sirable side of Flint's character. So deftly 
was this done, mixed with patronizing refer- 
ences to her husband's goodness of heart, 
that the effect was an inevitable comparison 
of her husband's personal habits and appear- 
ance with those of the better favored and 
well-groomed "colonel." 

The "colonel's" aims were apparent to 
even the most disinterested outsider, and a 
number of Flint's friends determined to de- 
feat them. A wholly unexpected action up- 
on the part of Flint made this unnecessary. 

Deacon Flint called for the hotel accounts 
one day. They were forthcoming after some 
verbal sparring over the unusual request, 
and the "colonel's" red ink balance would 
have nerved a much weaker man than Flint. 
Striding into the office he found his victim 
in slippers and smoking Jacket, comfort- 
ably ensconced in the deacon's own particu- 
lar chair. 

''Colonel Crofoot, ceremony is unnecessary 
between us. You will leave this house at 



Could it be possible that this was "Old" 
Flint, talking in this high-handed manner? 
The "colonel" played the wrong card. Glanc- 
ing over Bllnt's shoulder, he looked into Mrs. 
Blint's eyes which were blazing with indig- 
nation at her husband's interference with 
what, from his easygoing way, he had, for a 
long time, permitted her to regard as "her 
hotel," and shouted dramatically: 

"I refuse to go." 

Quietly asking his wife to leave the offl<;e, 
a request he was obliged to enforce by gent- 
ly pushing her into the dining-room, and 

locking the door behind her, he turned to the 
now thoroughly startled Crofoot with, 

"Your turn now. Colonel," and before the 
surprised gallant could' move, his arms were 
pinioned to his sides, his feet were forced off 
the floor, and he was journeying unwillingly 
to the center of the road, where Flint gently 
laid him down. 

"Sorry to have to use force. Colonel, but 
there didn't seem to be no other way," was 
the deacon's quiet apology. 

"I'm goin' to stay in that hotel. I'll have 
the law on you," yelled the irate man, as the 
imperturbable Flint re-entered the door. The 
deacon's reply was a look and Crofoot did 
not follow. 

Those among the amused bystanders, who 
knew of Mrs. Flint's predilection for the erst- 
while gallant "colonel," and saw his utter 
discomfiture at the hands of the long-sufTer* 
ing deacon, wondered what the outcome 
would be. They were not long left in doubt. 

As Mrs. Flint flashed a look back over the 
history of her dissatisfaction wiih the dea- 
con, it appeared to her to be a matter of slow 
growth. She could remember a circumstance 
here, a word there, which proved to her that 
she was not acting hastily. In spite of ap- 
pearances and proof she knew that ^he was 
wrong, yet anger at her husband's interfer- 
ence, forcing her to seek in every past dis- 
agreement a vital mistake and a conjugal 
crime, relieved the last vestige of common 
sense and rage was left on guard. The 
"colonel's" plaint that she was not being 
treated as a fine woman deserved, found 
lodgment She was indeed an unappreciated 
wife. Forgetting that during all these years 
the deacon's quiet counsel and encourage- 
ment had made her duties and responsibili- 
ties lighter, and that his strange ways had 
afforded her what at the time hau been en- 
Joyed as diversions, though at times trying 
ones, sne started for a lawyer's c^ce. She 
had not seen the "colonel's" defeat Had 
she glanced out through the dining-room 
window atter the deacon had locked the door 
behind ner, this story might never have been 
written. But this she did not do. Straight 
from the deacon's hands she went lo the 
kitchen door, out through the alley, up town, 
never resting until, almost out of breath and 
wholly hysterical, she sat down in the office 
of the prosecuting attorney. 

Divorce she wanted and divorce she would 
have, in spite of the remonstrances of her 
lawyer, who knew them both very well and 
feared that so decided a step might be re- 
gretted and prove disastrous. 

"But, my dear woman, I doubt the 
strength of your case." 



*'Incompatability of temper." reeled off 
Mrs. Flint with an air of ease and familiarity 
which sounded strangely like that oi the 
**colonel." "Incompatibility of temper is a 
sufficient cause to release any suffering wom- 
an." And this was the allegation in the com- 
plaint which was served upon Deacon Flint 
that same evening. 

"The Lord tempereth the wind to the 
shorn lamb/' was his only remark as the pa- 
pers were served upon him and he sat down 
at the dinner table, to eat with a philosophy 
that offered his recreant spouse but little 
comfort, for even now she had begun to 
think that her only reason for the move was 
a desire to again bring him into subjection. 

His friends, who were hers as well, now 
took a hand. Knowing that, this worthy 
couple were really eminently fitted for each 
other, and thinking it a pity that they should 
separate without adequate cause, put their 
heads together and formulated a plan to 
bring Mrs. Flint to her senses and teach the 
deacon the lesson that although fine feathers 
do not make fine birds, dress and manner 
have quite an effect upon the average wom- 

Flint was approached in such a way that 
the intervention did not seem to trespass 
upon his personal rights, and he was found 
to be very amenable to reason when the 
general principle of the plan was laid before 
him. When its full details were explained, 
however, some features of it were rather 
severe pills for the old man to swallow, but 
he finally consented. 

Fortunately for the conspirators, a public 
leap-year ball was to be the excitement for 
the evening. To this ball Flint was to be 
escorted by Bridget O'Qorman, a bright rosy 
cheeked Irish girl, who for a time had 
worked in the hotel and was discharged by 
Mrs. Flint, ostensibly for impudence, but in 
reality because she attracted too much ad- 
miration and, in a way, put the landlady in 
the shade. Bridget was approached, and for 
a consideration which, when coupled with 
her feminine desire to get even with Mrs. 
Flint, was large enough to be tempting, 
agreed to take Deacon Flint to the ball and 
play the game to the limit. An invitation to 
this function, written upon pink note paper 
and violently perfumed, was soon on its way 
to the hotel. 

When the messenger arrived, Mrs. Flint 
was alone in the office. 

"Deacon Flint In, ma'am?" enquired the 
messenger saucily. 

"I'm here — that must be for me," frowned 
the landlady. 

"Nope," replied the urchin, well coached 

in his part. "The lady said as how I was 
ter be 'special' perticler ter give the note ter 
Deacon Flint hisself." 

The deacon coming in at this moment re- 
lieved the good lady from further responsi- 
bility by reading the note, and smilingly 
said to the boy. 

"Say yes, and thank you, at nine o'clock." 

When the boy had gone her husband put 
on his coat, took up his hat, and without a 
glance in Mary Ann's direction hurried up 
town. Had he looked at her he would have 
been amused at the baffled expression upon 
her face — a mingling of perplexity, doubt 
and anger. 

His friends were awaiting him. They en- 
tered a barber shop and soon a set of clear- 
cut features were bared to the sight of his 
surprised friends. When in addition to this 
his hair had been shorn and liberal applica- 
tions of pomade had somewhat subdued the 
tendency of its several parts to varied and 
independent action, the metamorphosis was 
complete. There emerged from the shop a 
dignified looking, middle-aged gentleman of 
decidedly distinguished appearance. Out of 
the fires of his domestic troubles Flint arose, 
Phoenix-like, in a new character — his really 
noble physical proportions making him by 
long odds the best-looking man In the party. 
The clothier was next visited, then the shoe- 
man. A little later, booted and spurred, 
dressed from hat to boots in the best taste 
that the limited clothing market would per- 
mit, his color heightened by the excitement, 
the deacon announced his readiness for fur- 
ther orders. The youth in him had come 
back to stay. We never saw "Old" Flint 

"And now to the fiorist's, gentlemen — flow- 
ers for the fair, you know." 

It was the deacon who spoke, and the 
widow Dunbidge was compelled to cut every 
flower her window of houseplants afforded. 

When the rejuvenated deacon reappeared 
at the hotel, his wife not recognizing his 
new step, looked up at the newcomer as he 
entered the door, and with her best land- 
lady's manner and in a voice which long 
habit had made gracious, asked him to reg- 
ister, automatically turning toward him the 
guest list It was not until he enquired, "Has 
a lady called for me?" that she saw her mis- 
take. Taking advantage of her open- 
mouthed astonishment, he coolly directed 
that "if a lady called, she was to be shown 
to the parlor, where he would await her." 

Poor Mrs. Flint The bouquet of flowers 
which the deacon carried had already done 
its deadly work. The deacon was in love. 
It must have been going on for some time. 



Unwittingly ghe had played rigbt into his 
hand. Her face was a study. Who was it? 
What would be the result of her divorce? A 
dtYlsion of the property, of course. She had 
heard of division before, but knew little of 
its legal meaning and wondered how the 
hotel would be divided. From the plan of 
the house it was obvious that it would be so 
cut in two that the ofllce and her private 
rooms would be in one division and the din- 
ing room and the kitchen in the other. But 
who would have this, and who that, was a 
question. Now that a strange woman 
loomed upon the horizon, either solution was 
hateful. Another woman in her kitchen and 
dining room? Horrid! Her pHvate rooms 
and the stool behind the counter graced by 
another female? Perdition! In a tempo- 
rarily lucid moment she wondered if she 
could win him back. She discovered that 
she had hold of a poker, both ends of which 
were hot, yet she did not quite know how 
ghe could drop it. How hot it was she real- 
ized when the only cab In the village de- 
posited at the door a familiar figure, later 
described in an account of the ball in the 
"Weekly Blazer" as "radiant in a rich pink 
muslin, trimmed with expensive white lace, 
and carrying a large bouquet* of choice cut 

When this breezy picture of youthful love- 
liness brushed past the again thoroughly 
aroused tigress, standing threateningly be- 
hind the counter, Mrs. Flint forgot every- 
thing except the vision of "that siren" as her 
successor, and with every nerve tingling 
jerked out the query: 

"Bridg O'Gorman, you brazen thing, what 
are you doing in my house? I told you 
never to cross its threshold again." 

"Hold on, honey," good-naturedly replied 
Bridget, full of the spirit of the enterprise, 
"nobody talking to you." Then in a voice 
of most touching sweetness she called up- 

"Ready, Isaac? Come on if you are." 

"Coming," in liquid tones, was followed by 
the deacon himself, who, taking advantage 
of a thoroughly interested if perturbed audi- 
ence, presented, with much fulsome praise 
of the recipient, the fateful bouquet. The 
deacon's wife could endure It no longer. 
Starting from behind the counter she 
charged down upon them. 

"Deacon Flint.'" The words seemed to be 
jarred from between her teeth, and it was 
well for Bridget's dress that the deacon 
stood between them. "Deacon Flint, where 
are you going with that baggage?" 

"Not your baggage— Isaac's baggage," 
came sweetly from the Irrepressible Bridget. 

"Madam," said the deacon, in cold, re- 
served tones, "Madam, I fear you have for- 
feited the right to aak that Question." 

Utterly nonplussed by the change from 
"Old" Flint to the rejuvenated man, who 
looked no more than forty, and to the dea- 
con's quiet manner, which she knew so well, 
added a strange determination, she stood ir- 
resolute, while Flint assisted Bridget to the 
carriage and they were whirl^ away to the 

A little later the "Colonel" walked into the 
hotel, bold in the knowledge of Flint's ab- 
sence, for the gossips of the town had spread 
the news rapidly, and every one knew of 
the circumstances, though few guessed the 
facts behind them. He saw a dangerous 
glitter in the eyes of his hostess as he en- 
tered, but misreading the subject of her 
thoughts, started to regale her with the news 
of the day. After the first moment of anger 
at the sight of the author of much of her 
trouble, the deacon's wife, lost in thought, 
forgot his presence entirely and a few mo- 
ments later, wholly unconscious of inter- 
rupting him, broke Into the middle of one 
of his most grandiloquent sentences with: 

"Go up to that dance and watch them and 
tell me all — the truth, mind you — the truth. 
Here's two dollars to pay for your ticket," 
and she waved him away. As he left she 

"Mary Ann Dease Flint, you've been a 
fool," and her lonely heart admitted it. 

The deacon danced and drank and drank 
and danced as was the local custom of men 
upon such occasions, but, thanks to his Ken- 
tucky stomach, his potations served only 
to bring to the surface a hitherto unsus- 
pected natural gayety, and he displayed a 
spirit of gallantry which thoroughly sur- 
prised the conspirators who had feared that 
the deacon might not rise to the occasion. 

Bridget, woman-like, enjoying the situa- 
tion, was the gayest of the gay and quite the 
belle of the ball. 

The "Colonel" made several trips to and 
from the ball room, promptly reporting all 
the facts — and the facjts seemed big enough, 
without his customary additions. His last 
visit to the hotel was about midnight. Some- 
how, the atmosphere did not seem right, and 
a dimly-defined Instinct of self-preservation 
moved him to "guess that he would return 

The deacon's wife had been thinking, and 
unconsciously kept time to the music in the 
distance by tapping upon the counter with 
a folded paper which she held in her hand. 
She looked at him squarely, with a look that 



made him wince, and without further warn- 
ing handed him the paper, saying: 

"Here is your bill to date, receipted in 
full; it is a good investment; it has taught 
me what to value In men." 

The "Colonel" understood. 

The night's long hours had witnessed a 
remarkable change in the woman. The fires 
which at first had smouldered, grew hot and 
fierce, and in the crucible of lonely fear the 
woman had first softened — then melted. 

The dance was over. The musicians 
packed their instruments; the lights were 
put out; and the merry party, tired but 
happy, separated with many a Jest and 
cheery good-night. Bridget escorted the dea- 
con to the house, but would not come In, 
and Flint entered alone. 

The office had that deserted feeling which 
a destroyed harmony always produces. The 
inanimate objects In the room seemed to 
take on character and add their quota to 
the deacon's sense of isolation. He was 
oppressed by a fear that the events of the 
evening might add to his burdens instead of 
lightening them. His heart was heavy. 
Then Hope reasserted herself and, hanging 
upon her lips, the deacon vowed a reforma- 
tion in many ways. 

The dining room door stood ajar. 

"Isaac, is that you?" called his wife, in 
the best accents he had heard in her voice 
for years. 

"Yes, Mary Ann," and the gladness of the 
tones was only kept in check by the thought 
that the evening's worK must not be wasted 
by an undue relapse from severity. 

"Come in, Isaac; I want to talk with you." 

Mrs. Flint had drawn up to the grate a 
settee, the one unoccupied end of which 
looked very comfortable and inviting. He 
dropped Into the vacant place beside her. 

"Isaac, I've been a fool." 

'So have I, Mary Ann," he gently rejoined. 

'To think that my actions should finally 
drive you, a Oodly man, to drink and danc- 
ing, is more than I can stand. 




"Well, I wouldn't worry too much about 
that phase of the matter," interposed her 

"And that girl^-what about her? No soon- 
er do I make a fool of myself than she comes 
running down here after you." (A pause.) 
"I suppose I should not complain, though. 
You're a good-looking man, Isaac." Then, 
after a time, she again broke the silence. 
"Say, Isaac, why don't you always fix your- 
self up this way? I'm right proud of you, 
Isaac — I am sure." 

"Heart's Just the same as it always was, 
Mary Ann. I reckon women learn to love 
a man in any old clothes, but he ought to 
brighten himself up a bit and be something 
of a gallant to hold them. This seemed to 
be Solomon's idea — and he had quite an ex- 

"Well, what are we going to do about 
it, Isaac?" 

"About what?" 

"About the divorce." 

"You're the doctor, Mary Ann — that's your 

"Shall we bum the papers, and begin 
anew, Isaac?" she asked him, taking the 
formidable looking documents from the 
shelf, where the deacon had laid them. 

"Bum the papers? . Yes. Commence 
anew? No. 'Twould blot out too many 
sacred hardships; destroy too many valued 
landmarks; remove too many memories. of 
fruitful sorrows. By these and Qod's help 
we will hew the way to a better understand- 

The papers burned merrily, and an hour 
later, when the night watchman made his 
rounds, he looked in at the window to dis- 
cover the reason for the cause of the late 
burning light. He involuntarily uncovered 
and bowed his head — the deacon and his 
wife were praying. 

Bridget O'Oorman resumed her place in 
the dining room the next day. 

Why Thompaon "Smiled." 
The bonorable member Irom Kitsap county 
Is a newspaper man, excessively temperate, 
and a genius. He was chairman of the 
and morals committee last ses- 
sion. When tbe fight was on to swap names 
between the towns of Port Orchard anil 
Charleston and get a tangle of postofflce 
names aod town plat designations straight' 
ened out, which ultimately was done, a very 
Importuning, loquacious and bibulous con- 
stituent of Mr, Thompson's came upon the 
scene and made life a burden for tbe genial 
and alTable member ol the house. The bur- 
den of the fellow's ^ong was: 

"Now, Mr. Thompson, as I was going to 

say " and he would expatiate upon the 

necessity and beauty of the needed legisla- 

Turn whichever way he would, Mr. Tbomp-' 
son would continually be running into this 
Eelf-constituted committee ot one. At once 
he would rush up to his representative and 

"There's one thing I forgot, Mr. Thomp- 
son; as I was going to say " and a half- 
hour ot the member's valuable time would be 

Matters dragged on in this manner dur- 
ing tbe senatorial fight and nothing was done 
In tbe matter, although at each Interview 
Mr, Thompson assured his constituent: "The 
matter will be settled tomorrow," or "at the 
next sitting." 

At length the affair grew very vening to 
Mr. Thompson, who would be compelled to 
stand for hours at a time and listen to this 
fellow's story, but he was too kind-hearted 
to break the matter off abruptly; yet he 
studied constantly and kept on a vigilant 
lookout to avoid meeting him. The matter 
weighed so heavily upon him that he grew 
thin and dyspeptic. His mind and body was 
upset with yexatlon. At the same time the 
constituent grew impatient and worried 
much. The quantity of liquid refreshments 
in Olympia were visibly diminishing. 

It grew to be the talk among the mem- 

bers of the legislature, so apparent was this 
struggle — one to keep out of the other's 
company: the other to seek and find. Then 
the climax came. 

"Mr. Thompson." warmly spoke up the 
constituent, as he met his legislator after a 
two days' hunt, "there's a lot of hot air 
around this capltol going to waste!" 

"Yes." groaned Thompson. 

"And it seems to be principally among the 
legislators!" he shrieked, growing warmer- 

"Yes," calmly replied Thompson. 

"And, as I was going to say " 

"Don't do It," broke in tbe completely ex- 
asperated member from Kitsap; "there'll be 
more hot air than ever, and it's hot enough 

"Oh, h !" exclaimed the astonished 


"That's what I say," quickly replied 

Then the fellow returned home, and the 
reporters understood why Thompson began 

Wouldn't Get There. 

Pllney Allen, the genial and accommodat- 
ing manager of tbe Metropolitan Press, has 
en ambitious fox terrier with an abbreviated 
tail which has an Insatiable desire to chase 
the neighbors' chickens and tease the feline 
population In the vicinity of Mr. Allen's 
home. In consequence thereof said dog was 
condemned to spend many idle hours in the 
office of the company with which its master 
is associated. 

This caused tbe canine to become nervous 
and restless. After missing a number of 
good meals, the dog became quite active 
and showed much interest In nosing around 
lunch baskets and paste buckets in the bind- 
ery. He was discovered even gnawing at a 
bone (older. 

About this time Steve Qiass. the colored 
assistant, who attends to the stock room, dis- 
covered the dog with tbe stump tali mastl' 
eating an old paste brush and endeavored to 
Induce him to desist. 



Then an argument arose between Steve 
and the dog. 

Just as matters were becoming quite excit- 
ing the owner of the dog came upon the 

The slave thought his master had brought 
some meat and began to strut about him in 
a haughty and proud manner with the in- 
dex portion of his vertebrae pointing sky- 
ward and his auricular coverings lifted to a 
position of attention. 

**Steve," then spoke up Mr. Allen, "you'd 
better be very careful what you do in the 
presence of that dog." 

"Weell, now Mistan Allen,'* grinned Steve, 
"I hain't er fraid of that dawg." 

•*I know, Steve," replied Mr. Allen, "but 
he's likely to bite you." 

"Needn't feer dat, Mistah Allen," explained 
Steve; "he knows better'n that. You know 
ef that dawg bite me what happen?" 

"What's that?" snapped Mr. Allen. 

"Jest this, Mistah Allen: Ef that dawg 
evah bite me he'll nevah git to wheah he's 

Tale of An Indian Scare. 

J. M. Parish, of Wilbur, relates the story 
that when he came to the West and settled 
In Eastern Washington in 1881, everything 
was still in a rather wild and unsettled 
condition. He especially remembers how 
afraid the whites were that the Indians who 
abounded would break out at any time and 
go on a rampage, notwithstanding the fact 
that at no time did they do anything very 
serious, save demand whisky of the whites 
and beg money when they found some fel- 
low whom they thought would comply with 
their request. When he first came upon the 
scene of action at Wilbur he stayed at a 
friend's home and upon one occasion had 
necessity to make a wild night ride. An In- 
dian outbreak was feared. He was the only 
man at the time in the settlement. Al- 
though he was fresh from the East he felt 
It his duty to warn a family living some 
distance away. The only horse to be had in 
the place was one called "Bronco Buster," 
belonging to Mrs. F. M. Brown, who was the 
first white woman to come to Lincoln coun- 
ty. This horse was so named because every 
time he was ridden he had to broken anew. 
Even while being ridden he was likely at 
any time to take a spasm, arise in the air, 
double up his back and come down with his 
head low and his feet in a bunch, while the 
rider — well, the rider was almost anywhere, 
three or four places all at once. 

"Oh, he is perfectly gentle," spoke up Mrs. 
Brown, when he asked about the horse. So, 

"with three or four women holding the ani- 
mal. Parish mounted with the utmost care 
and lightness, and, peculiar to say, the horse 
didn't make a move. 

Wtell, Mr. Parish went on his errand, and 
after it became dark was compelled to re- 
turn. As he drove along he kept on the 
lookout and was extremely cautious at every 
turn. Just before reaching Wilbur he was 
required to ride through a kind of gorge 
with high banks and some scrubby trees 
along the roadway. Here he was especially 
wary. Suddenly he noticed ahead of him 
figures silhouetted against the sky in the 
trail ahead of hiuL This made the cold 
shivers run up and down his frame, and he 
concluded that he was surely trapped. Draw- 
his horse to one side, he went off into the 
shadows of the brush and waited. 

One' by one he could see the forms come up 
from the other side of the hill and become 
outlined in the gray of the sky above the 
horizon. Not a word was uttered, nor a 
cry was made, as the fellows came on down 
to where he was hidden by the roadside. He 
could feel his horse trembling beneath him 
as the silently moving forms drew nearer. 
He hoped that the anihial would not make 
any noise to betray its presence and his. 
The suspense was terrible. There were at 
least two hundred coming down the trail. 
He stood awaiting. How leisurely they 
moved! The suspense was agonizing. At 
last they began to file past him, and in the 
gloom of the night he discerned taat they 
were a drove of wild horses. 

"The horse was so ashamed of me, after 
the drove got by and I gave him the spur 
to hurry him on, that he bucked me off and 
wouldn't let me on again, and I had to lead 
him the rest of the way home," said Mr. 
Parish, concluding tne tale. 

He Drew a Check. 

Professor Barry, instructor of languages 
at the Washington Agricultural College, like 
many other learned and good men, is some- 
what absent-minded. He met his classes one 
morning, wearing a black and a tan shoe. 
Again, he threw the Spanish examination 
papers into the waste basket, to the inhuman 
delight of his class. Finally, the absent- 
minded professor overdrew his bank account. 
Mr. Staley, the genial banker, informed him 
of the mistake the first time he jcalled at 
the bank. Professor Barry was a world of 

"Well, well, how careless of me!" he at 
once said. "Whoever heard of the like? I 
have no cash with me, but I'll — why, I will 
write you a check." 


The people not only of Waehtngton, nor 
ret of the NortbweBt, but. Indeed, of the 
United States and Canada, have been star- 
tled by the vast amount at boodllDg and 
bribery which has been talked about con- 
cerning public officers of states and munlcl- 
palltleti. It Is, as well, astounding that lor 
all the direct and indirect accusations made, 
no earnest and honest ettorts have been 
exerted by any so-called culprits to free 
themselves from the stigma of the charge. 
In almost each Instance these fattltllDdings 
are made by persons who are or have been 
connected with public life. This seems to 
be. as it were, the result of a talltpg out 
among thieves. A grand jury Is sifting mat- 
ters in Seattle; a committee Is Inquiring 
Into affairs of the State of Washington. 
Everywhere efforts are being made to rid the 
various places and districts of the nefarious 
influence and control of vice and venality. 

This great upheaval and effort to be free 
from the domination o( the lower elements 
and more depraved sections of society Is as 
Industriously combated as It Is advanced; 
and, as these baser and mere mercenary 
creatures have, through the Inactivity and 
disinterested laxity of the better classes, 
been permitted to Intrench themselves In of- 
flclal positions and hold the reins of public 
office, the efforts exerted for truth and right 
often go far amiss and In many cases fall 
of their ends, resulting in whitewashing and 
glossing societies tor the mutual welfare of 
Uie evil-doers. 

But, as the bad €^en in their power must 
make a pretense to be moral and upright. 
the hope for good Is when they allow honest 
and true men to be "put on the ticket" — 
to placate the better element. Then the op- 
portunity for the true reformer arises. Such 
seems to be the universal case in this coun- 
try today. 

However, be the outcome for good or bad, 
the whole condition of affairs, be they where 
they are, are the legitimate frultii of a per- 
nicious office-seeking class who make it their 
business to hold office and their pleasure to 
»pend the people's money and so long as 

the people do not object they continue bra- 
zenly "to ply their trade;" while the condl- 
Uons, which exist are merely PULITICAL 


A query often comes Into the mind — Are 
we getting away from our savage natures? 
Take, for example, the incident of death; 
note how, when a man is old, we haul his 
body to the cemetery with the trimmings 
of brack on every side; when he Is a child, 
all the trappings are white. This might 
mean that the adult is sinful and defiled and 
the infant is pure and unspotted. Yet, this 
cannot be said when the eulogies spoken 
over the dead are considered. It might mean 
that, as black Is the absence of light, and 
death Is the absence of lite, they naturally 
go together; but that does not Stand In the 
case of white for a child. Then It may, In 
the case of black, be said that It denotes 
nlgbt, the time of sleep, and that death is 
a sleep; and that white stands tor the light 
which wilt come at the break of day. This 
might also mean that the adult, having been 
a bad one, has no hope of a new day, while 
the Infant, having done nothing of any ac- 
count, is sure to be called on a morrow. The 
most plausible reasoning is that black de- 
notes that the dead ceased activities in the 
evening of life, while the white signifies 
that the departed was called away in the 
blooming morn of existence. Upon such 
grounds the middle-aged should have brown; 
youth, yellow; the maid, pink; the matron, 
orange; the man not yet gray, blue; the 
woman In her prime, red, and the old ones, 
who dye their hair, red. The fact Is, this 
funeral trapping proposition is a relic of 
barbarism whereby the senses are fed and a 
devilish, wretched nature, in fiendish hypoc- 
racy, tries to make the world tblnk how com- 
pletely overwhelmed with grief the living 
mourners look to be for the "sainted loved 
one," while, in fact, they are Just overflow- 
ing with glee In calculations how they will 
enjoy the results of the dead body's labors. 
The louder the wailing, the less the grief. 
Mourning Is a relic of barbarism. It is a 



symbol of gloom and despair; it comes with 
the calcium light of realization, which flash- 
es over the pathway of the living, showing 
them that they have not done what they 
should have done when there was life and 
opportunity. Black should prevail, eh, when 
an adult dies, because the gloom and de- 
spondency is greater? And white, because 
no attention was demanded, no care re- 
quired? Bosh! There's no real reason for 
white or black — it's only a custom sensuous 
emotionalism conceived in the beginning 
and continues with constant apologies. It 
is the symbol of the savage. We — but it is 
a good bit of savagery that we keep the cus- 
tom up. It is a pall which covers a multi- 
tude of sins. 


Who is the dope fiend? That peaked, thin, 
ragged, dirty individual who sneaks around 
the corner into some dark alley to force 
into his veins a diluted potion of morphine 
or cocaine? Or, that nervous, emasculated, 
haunted, craving and hungering wretch, who 
dives into a drug store and demands a dose 
of cloral or opium? Are these the dope 
fiends? Are these those who sacrifice health, 
vigor and strength and are driven into the 
lanes and secluded spots of disease and 
death? Are such all who are loathed and 
shunned by the hale and happy, prosperous 
and successful people of the earth? 

There is the loving, kind, sweet-natured 
and beautiful one whom nature has given an 
attractive form, a winning manner and a 
woman's nature. The time comes when she 
will be called upon to carry the burdens of 
maternity. A tempting word is whispered 
to her mind. She listens and reaches for 
the vial. Her beauty fades. Her nature is 
steeled to brittle harshness. Her form be- 
comes the shell of a gnawing and debilitat- 
ing ailment. The lustre and glory of her 
presence Is gone. She joins the army with 
the medicine chest and cupboard of labeled 

Another feature of life is the hard-driven 
mercenary: he who demands of himself the 
bringing out of chaos a certain sum each 
period. He finds the task too large. In his 
moment of realization a word of unwise 
counsel fiutters into his thoughts. He 
reaches for the cup. Under whip and strain 
he stumbles along until in faltering attitude 
he requires a drug. The doper is visited 
and Mr. Moneymaker joins the chorus of 
chronic and continual medicine users. 
"Stomach trouble," "kidney complaint," 
"rheumatism," "nervous debility" or "sleep- 
lessness" becomes the part he sings. 

The great recruiting army of dope fiends, 
however, are the patrons of patent medi- 
cines. Hypochondria is the beginning symp- 
tom, and this is produced by lying and de- 
ceitful advertisements. OPIUM, CHLORAL, 
MORPHINE and like dangerous poisons are 
the fundamental ingredients in aix pain- 
relieving REMEDIES, including headache pow- 
ders and soothing syrups. The writer has 
the formulae and will print them if this is 
denied or questioned. Cataarh cures and 
cough medicines are almost always com- 
posed in main degree of opiates or like dan- 
gerous drugs. 

Thousands of poor, helpless creatures ex- 
isting in a most damnable condition of body 
and mind have had their start to worse than 
a demon's hell from the taking of a patent 
medicine or the trial of a "sure cure-all." 

It Is reasonable to expect this. Note that 
somebody must pay the enormous and ex- 
pensive advertising bills. Patent medicine 
companies must lie and cheat by advertise- 
ment and a half-measure bottle, and in addi- 
tion make of their customers actual dope 
fiends by creating a habit and craving the 
chains of which God Almighty and He only 
can sever. 

Pity! Pity on the poor fool who buys 
patent medicines and takes into the vitals 
of the body a viper which will besmirch 
with its slime and poison the physical ex- 
istence and only cease its deadly work when 
the body lies prostrate in the grave. Poor 
dope fiend! Pity! Pity! 

Seattle has two residents who are credited by 
the World's Almanac with being worth a million 
dollars, while three estates of deceased capitalists 
of prominence are credited with being worth an 
equal amount. Altogether there are eighteen mil- 
lionaires in the state, according to the authority 
quoted. Of these Spolcane has the largest num- 
ber, being credited with nine men whose holdings 
amount to upwards of the million mark. Seattle 
comes second with five. Tacoma has two, Port 
Gamble one and Walla Walla one. 

The list by cities is as follows : 

Seattle — A. A. Denny estate, Jacob Furth, cap- 
italist ; Bailey Gatzert estate ; T. S. LIppy, capi 
talist and Klondiker : William Renton estate. 

Spokane — M. B. Brownlee, capitalist : A. B. 
Campbell, capitalist : Patrick Clark, gold ihines ; 
F. Lewis Clark, mines ; D. C. Corbin. capitalist, 
railroad promoter, beet sugar manufacturer ; John 
A. Finch, capitalist, and ('ol. I. N. Peyton, banker. 

Tacoma — Chester S. Thorne, capitalist, corpora- 
tion director ; Cyrus Walker, capitalist. 

Walla Walla — I^vi P. Ankeny. banker. 

Port (Jamble — William W. Walker, lumber man- ' 

Reduced Rates From the East 
via the Northern Pacific up to June 15th. If 
you have friends coming West, they will 
have the best accommodations by using the 
Northern Pacific, with its three Overland 
trains daily. 

For rates and all information, call on or 
write to any N. P. Agent. I. A. Nadeau, - 
Genl. Agent, Seattle. 

Tbe HobBri Campany, 114 Fifth Ave.. New York. 
BnaoDDcea a nev aovel by Cftpt, CliaH. King, en- 
titled "A Daugbter ot Ihe Sloui." The scene U 
Ibe tar westeru pLalnit. and critics vho bave read 
tbe adTBure aheets hall the new slor; vltb great 
Intereet aod ealhiinlngm. dalmlDg for it the (rue 
ring and actloa of bla earlifr bDOke, and campai- 
lii« more than favorably with ihem. It la certain 
that biB host ot old-time readers are stll] thor- 
ongbiy appreciative, br wltneeaed by tbe large 
Dumber of copln already sold before publication. 
Ita literary merit la greBlly enhanced by tbe talent 
employed in Its artMtic em hellish meat. Ibe IIIiih- 
tratioDB being by Frederick Remiagtou and E. V,'. 
I>emlng. Price tl.SO. 

"The Turquoise Cup." 



Smllb. whose "Monl 
lotable auiM:eBa. The D 
Btorles. "The Desert," belug 

Mr. Parrlsb b 

I the story Itself » 

rlclasltudea that 


few y 

s or 

portunltj. The b__., ._ ._. _.. 

vonderfally well done. In fact It promlsea to be 
one of tbe great-selling hooks o( the senson. Dodd. 
Me«d & Co., 372 Fifth Ave,, New York; price 

"The Pit" Ib now conceded to be Norrla' master- 
ptece— a really (hrllling action. Tbe rerlnlnilll- 
tude is wonderfully vivid ; the Btorv necullarlv 
engrosaing eapecially to Americans I 


of I 

ChlCBRo. It Is ee'rtalnly one of the moHt dramallc 
and vltai plctares of American life ever published. 
Doubleday. Page A Co., 34 Union Square E.. Sew 
Tork: price J1.50. 

"The Typhoon," by Joseph ConrBd. has been 
well described as "In many wBya the best sea-story 
ever published." Ha sea-pfctupea have a vividness 
which the world of letters has not known since tbe 
passing ol R. I', ^teveqson, U. P. Putnam's Jtaos. 
New York; by mail. tl.lO. 

"T^e Histi 

of l,e' 

standard work, but few so satlstaetory a 
A. C. MeClurg & Co., Chicago : two volumeB, 

"Moth and Rust, and Other Stoi'lei," 
nounced by Dodd. Mend & Co. Mary CI 
delay, the author made a palpable "bit" 

eager I 

ailed historical 

of abort 
It ot pink 


Inlshed writer who does 

Fill welco..._ ..._ 
vigorous band of the writer of "Red Pottage." 
Dodd. Mead * Co., iNew York ; price *1.50. 

A thin volume on Robert I.ouls Hi even son, pub- 
lished by Messrs. James Pott & Co.. belongs to 
what are called "The Bookman Biographies." The 
text Is scanty, but this' dellclency is made up by 
the pictures, ot which ttiere are some two score- 
This Is Ibe flrst volume of the series, and similar 
volumes on Carlyie. Dickena and Count Tolstoi 

n and Thereabout," by Mr. Cbarb 


handsomely printed and llluslraled 


bllshed Iv tbe 


f Han Francisc 

. It 

a- simple 




a just descrlpt! 

of Ibe clly'aro 

with the 


o" baj 

and hills 

Tom of Conne 





lile. Is B collec 

ion ' o 


: highlands of Ire 

11.5" ■ 

IcNaliy « 

, publ 

I. Chlca 

; price 

r the Expedition 
Clark'" with Introduction by JameK 
announced by McClurg. It Is a handsome reprint 
m two volumes, of the 1S14 edition of Journals 
of tbe famous eiplorera. who, in 18IM-5-0 boldly 

jVbat Manner of Man." by Edna Kenton, Is an 
engaging llctlon. Illustratlag the dictum that genius 
is allied to madness. The book is attracting cod- 
slderahle nttentlon. and many lengthy newspaper 
reviews. I Bobbs- Merrill Co., Indianapolis, publlsb 
era ; price. tl.^O.) 

The illustration at the beginning ot the article 
entitled "Olympla tbe Beautiful.'^ In this Issue 
ot The Coast, ia the emblem of tbe Olfmpia De- 
velopment t^o.. of Olympia. 

The May issue of Thb Coast, besides another 
natallment of "Michael Sears" and the usual 
lepartmenta. will have a Seattle story by See M. 
Imoke : a strong paper by Jean Mcl.eod. of What- 
om 1 and another sketch by I'eter I'arley relating 




Owns 4,0(10 acres or iBDd In »nd >d. 
Joining OlymplB, the aBme lying In 

i 10 milea of tro 

Uar:>or. Such harbor conditlona u 
exisc about Olympla, u abown hj 
this map, cannot be found anywhere 
else en American soil. Railroad de- 
velopment now planaed will center 
Immense trafflc Id this harbor. Tboe 
4.0OU acres of land are derated to 
the building of greater Olympla. 

Free Sites and Cash 





Wbat Ib tbe longeac word In tbe world? I am 
not raah enough to attempt to anawer that ques- 
tloD. There la a certain Welsh name of a place 
wblch reaches me eTerjr now and then, and which 
I bsve printed more than once, which la sufficlentlf 
torm liable. I believe that tbe patient and ae- 
rlous Germans have Inrned ont some verbal mon- 
sters, and It ma; be that tbe Chloeae, tbe Rus- 
Blana and other races with wbose literature I am 
unarqnalated have produced series ol linked let- 
ters lonK drawn out which are called words. So 
I careful]; abstain trom saflng what Is tbe long- 
est word In tbe world. 

But I think I rouji venture to snggeat that there 

I Llddell anif Bcott's Greek Leikon. 
modest trifle: 
£.epa dotemachoael achogaleokranlolelpsanodrlm- 
QB tas Up blopa raomelltohaCakechumeuolilcnleplkossii- 

Ebopopbattoperlsteral ektruonoptejikphBlaklglDsplel- 
Klopelel ol agooslra lobaletraganopterugon. 

I hope t have copied It currectl;, but there may 
be a Blip here and there and life Is not long enough 
to wrlie It out twice, and tbe gnod printer. In 
whom I have [he utmost confidence, may be ei- 
cused It be stumbles now and then. In Eugllab 
It ought 10 bave ITT letters — there or tbereaboule. 
Id Ite original Greek form the letters would be not 

ted by one IcttKr. The word Is used by 

dainties, flsh. flesh, (o 

^25!L^ ~1""_."?'"S 

to about It down a long- 

Magog. — I-ondon tieade 





Mea'i Cashmere Tailorings, 

Ladles' Dreaa Goods. 

Flannels for Children's aotblng. 

Flahnels for Underclothing. 

Domestic Blankets. 

Miners' Blankets. 

MacklDsw Clothing. 

Bsseball and Uymnaslum Suits. 


St. Paul, 

Detroit, and 
Other Eastern Points, 
e tbe goods are made -op and ri 

Buy Direct and 5ave Money 



lin Flrat ATS. SEATTLE. V. 8. A. 

Sewing Machines 

"Standard." acknowledged 

. . _ jy all 
. of dlffer- 
buy direct 

You buy for one-half tbe price that sewing 
machines are sold for by men who employ 
agents— tlU, $18, $20, |24 for new sewing 


Cline's Piano House, t^ 

Every issue of THE COAST is 
a Souvenir Edition. Send it to 
your friends in the East. 

In answering Adyertlsemects please mention The 



Inylte ylsltatloD and examination of tbeir 1903 
Draperies and Carpets. 


Largest variety of figures and qualities eyer 


Sclentlflc Sjitem lor 
BUST ind 

25,IM Choice Roses for If03 

$a.50 a Dozen 

ELettrlcIt;, Metban- 
knl- Massage, Inter- 

Weatem Seed* for Weatern Ptanters. 

Physlcal Culture. 
Abaolutelf u n r 1- 

ple««Hnt and effect 
Ive. Self applied. 
Money olieerfully re- 
funded where imme- 
dlale results nre Dot 
olitEloed, I-nrtlcu- 
lara Id plain sealed 


to thoae who mention The Co*bt. 

Puget Sound Nursery & Seed Co. 

1107-1109 Second Ave. Seattle. V. S. A. 

Speltz! Speltzl 

Do fou know what It IH? 

tt Is vecF valnable on poor, Kravelf Botl. 

If 700 want to be sure of KceMoff 


■end in your iut«eription at once 


Write for paMlculara. do not delay. 

Europwia plan; Vint Clm. All D«jllght 
Roomi. Popular Ratee. 

>« Hotel Brunswick^ 

Boiloeia Ceo tar. 
— Ont Block from UdIod Depot— 


Seed Dept. Seattle, U. S. A. 

E. J. BO^A/elM 

ai9 rtrat Av*. So. Sakttl*'. Wuh. 


Ifieteresled in Seedi^, Poultry, et«.,BeDd 
for my new caiulogue, it ia free. 


AUilon. Inland Flyer. 

OnlT passenger BteamaUp Una to 
the Puget Souad Naval SUUon. 


Home Study SrVoLS: 
for Writers... I'lJT".',' 

branches of English composition for general 

tLon In Journallam. atory writing, verse, all 
classes of literary composition. Practical 
help for literary beginners. How to write 
correctly. English grammar made plain, 
functuatlon and construction of sentences. 
For Circulars Address: School of English 
Composition, care THE EDITOR, Frank- 
lin, 0. 

inerlng AdverCleemente pleaae menllun The Coast. 

The beautiful new Spring and Summer 
3t7les lu Silks are now ready. WASH 

Aek for eamplee a.::! r<'l(^ei! of new 
mail them to you on application. 

mcCartby Dry floods €o« 

Second and Madison Street, 

TICKETS ''° *?£i,« 


SHOirr l_IMK TO 

St Pad, IMitl, MliiMipolls, Cblcaso 


ThroQsli Falan and Tonrlit Sleepen. 
Dlnlnc and Buffet BmoklnK Ubrary Cars. 

dailt trains; pabttiub: skbvtcb 

Montklr Announcement 

Third Avenue Theatre 


aemlDg March 22— 

■MAC BET [I.- 

Cor. Third Ave. and Madison St. 
Phone Main 667 
Prices:— 20c, 30c, 40c, 50c. 

Seattle Theatre 

J. P. HOWE, Manager 


Cor. Tbitd ATe, and Cherr;. Pbone. Main 4S. 
Popular Prtcea. 

Seattle, Cvu-ett and Edawnds Route 


Tb* Fine, Palatial PuMnger Bzprtaa Steamer. 

Id auiwerliis Adierlisemeatfl please m 


A Public Letter. 

January 6, 1903. 
To Whom It May Concern : 

That those interested in the growth and establishment of a literary, historical 
and general illustrated magazine in the Northwest may know something of the 
reception which The Coast has had, the following figures are given : 

Through the direct personal solicitation of Honor L. Wilhelm from February 
16, 1902, until December 1, 1902, 1,581 new subscribers, paid in advance, were 
secured, and over 827 newspapers and periodicals were added to the mailing lists. 
. During the past eleven months, the cash sales, including news stands and lots in 
hundreds and over, have grown from nothing to from 600 to 1,260 copies monthly. 
These, with a list of 1,600 old subscribers and lists which have since been secured, 
make monthly sales and copies sent out aggregate from 1,750 to 11,000. By months 
the numbers printed and sent out have been for 1902 as follows : 

January 1,750 

February 2,500 

March 2,000 

April 2,200 

May 2,700 

June 3,400 

July 3,400 

August 3,000 

September 8,500 

October 11,000 

November 3,500 

December 5,000 , 

Total 43.950 

Monthly average 3,662% 

The year of 1903 opens auspiciously and there seems no reason why The Coast, 
in the next twelve months, cannot double its list of subscribers and at the same time 
increase the quantity and quality of the cpntents. If you want to keep in touch with 
the Northwest and know the trend of its writers and thinking people, you should be 
a regular subscriber to The Coast, the only monthly magazine in the Northwest, 
and one which is run under the plan that it is best to tell the truth and stand for the 
right at all times and in all places. 


Editor and Manager. 


i ! 




MAY, 1905 





Througb the straltH of pain, 'mldet the Islea of w< 

Flow the floods ol Borrow and care, 
As the tide of life, with its ebb and flow, 

Carries laortBls unaware; — 
But the sun by day -and the Etara by night, 

Or beacons built by love, — 
It the charts be followed,— will show aright 

The way to safely move. 

A human soul, adrift, may shriek. 

Where the surging waters roll, 
The bark he rides be (rail and weak 

And lost beyond control: — 
But tbe life-boat goes, and a strong hand grasps 

The hand he holds above. 
And his life is saved as he, panting, gasps 

In tbe arms of the guard of love. 
Oh, the guard of love! Are there tones of song 

Which writers can employ,— 
Do keys to the music of earth belong 

For pitch of the saved one's Joy? 
No brush can portray — no pen express — 

Tbe beautiful glories of 
The army of workers who toll to bless. 

Of which is the guard of love. 
—March &, 1903. 

Copyright, 1902, by Honor L, WilhelDi. 

The Most Westerly Park in Canada 


By Ao'es Dean's Cameron.' 

On Saturday, November 10th, ISOO, Sir 
Henri J0I7 de Lotblniere. Lieu tea ant-Gover- 
nor of British Columbia, In the presence of 
tbe Scottish societies, the mayor o( the 
cltj' and a fashionable throng, unveiled in 
Beacon Hlil Park. Victoria, British Colum- 
bia, a Robert Burns memorial drinking foun- 
tain — the first Bums monument erected in 

November's brilliant scene suggests an- 
other. We go back to a March day Just 
fifty-seven years ago, and again we see, 
near Beacon Hlil. a little sroup oF Scots. 
They have just landed on the beach; their 
vessel is at anchor in the offing. It Is a 
typical spring day. To the south the deep, 
unruffled blue of the Fuca Straits mstchps 
the blue of tbe sky; between the blues the 
dazzling Olympic pealis stretch upward. At 
the feet of the voyagers Beacon Hfil Is yel- 
low with buttercups, before them stretches 
an unknown land; save for the soft lapping 
of the waves on the sand, on all sides is 
silence. Who are these men. and what do 
they seek? 

An empire's history Is making that March 
day, and this little group ot fifteen men. 
with James Douglas as their leader, are 
about to begin a chapter. To this end. they 
employ no cunning colors of the cloister. 
Hewn logs and cedar posts are their writ- 
ing tools. 

They came, these sturay Scots, to build 
a fort for the Hudson's Bay Company: 
Hard tasks were theirs, and rugged duties 
before they fell Into the portion of weeds 
faces, and no visions of a 

Greater Britain from ocean to ocean had 

The fort was built and called Camosun. 
The name changed to Fort Albert, then to 
Fort Victoria. Sixteen years of ups and 
downs follow. Then, one day, gold Is dis- 
covered In Cariboo, and Fort Victoria rubs 
her eyes and wakes up to find herself a 
tent-town, a live base of supplies. At the 
age of sixteen she leaves her childhood and 
with Western suddenness enters upon her 
womanhood as a miners' town. 

A race track is cut through Beacon Hill's 
buttercups, graDd-standB are built, and on 
the 24th of May and the Prince of Wales' 
birthday, high carnival is held. From the 
paddock, duly blanketed. Indian ponies and 
Mexican horses are led forth to try con- 
clualons with blonded mares from California. 
And the grand stand! Who says there are 
five races of mankind? Here we have fifty, 
and all betting and talking and shouting at 
once. Chinese women, their hair specially 
■■laundered" for the occasion, cheek-by-]owl 
with rain-bow clad Indians, fierce-looking 
Kanakas, firemen In their red shirts, miners, 
sailors, sappers and no lack of whiskey, and 
good nature and gold dust galore. One 
familiar figure Is old John Butts, with his 
bell, callln? out the races. "OyezI Oyez! 
Oyez! By the order of the judges, bring 
out your trotting horses!" Helghday! We 
have races nowadays, and bicycle meets, and 
sports manifold, but we have lost the nerve 
of forty years ago. 

Time passed. A record ot the public gath- 
erings at the Hill would be a reflex of the 


growing hiatorr ot tbe Provtnce and of tbe 
empire. At Beacon Hill blazed one ol those 
Jubilee watcb-flrea, flerjr llnka In the chain 
of an emplre'a proud tbankfulnesa. 

At Beacon Hill city fathera and achool 
children bared their heads and with glad 
and thankful hearts Joined their voices In 
"God Save the Queen," when the news 
came of the relief of Mafeklng. 

Modern men-of-war today, and giant "£m- 
preaees" ply the waters which tbe "Beav- 
er'a" paddle wfaeela churned Into foam that 
long-ago March day. The old "Beaver" her- 

ing — where are they all? Although on tbe 
map of the park you will find them not, they 
atlll live green In memory. 

Their place la taken by artificial lakes, 
and bird cages, and deer parka, and band- 
stands, and respectable graveled walks, 
where the "grown-upa" and the well-dressed 
children of today enjoy themeelvea, and 
where In numb era they gathered In Novem- 
ber to listen to air Henri's speech. The 
cosmopolitan nature of the crowd on the 
race track In the old Carrlboo daya struck 
the onlooker. Is there not food for thought 

self played her part, and at last, full of years 
and honor, went to pieces on the rocka of 
Brockton Point. The men who manned her 
have paased Into tbe Great Beyond. 

Meanwhile the glades and copses around 
the hill have been modernized Into a park — 
"improved;" fortunately the Improver 
stayed the hand before Art choked out Na- 
ture. The tangled undergrowth where the 
chUdren of tbe last generation, barefooted, 
hunted for lady-sllppere, the hidden springs 
where In dry summers we drove the cows 
to drink, and the swamps where we, proud 
ot our old Dutch skates with the curling 
prows, made our first clumsy essay at skat- 

In the spectacle ot a native of France In the 
capacity of lieutenant governor of a Ca- 
nadian province unveiling a monument to 
the memory of a peasant-poet of Scotland? 
Sir Henri aald: "This bright, sunshiny 
day is a fitting day to celebrate the memory 
of him whose life waa cheered with so little 
aunsnlne; but he found aunahlne in hie heart 
to shed on the lives of others. We can see 
him at his plough, turning over the furrows 
on tbe cold, ungrateful field, and with a 
thought of pity for the white daisy he had 
crushed, for tbe little mouse— whose nest 
he had disturbed. He waa poor aai always 
remained poor, but he knew how to cheer 



up the heart ot the poor when, ta fals "Ode to 
Honest Poverty," he ennobled It by earing: 

still Ventfer" „..,.. 
Tho' they maj' gaDg a 


I haman." 

'The world ouRht to be grateful to Robert 
BuruB, and we muBt be gratetul to thoae 
who have erected the flret monument In the 
Dominion to perpetuate hia memory." 

The proceedings were brought to a fitting 
close by the recitation ot an original poem 
by the venerable bard of the Victoria St. 
Andrew's Society, Mr. Deans. 

Native-born Victorians may Justly be 
proud ol Beacon Hill, their nature's park, 
with Its grandly diversified scenery of 
mountain, sea and forest. 

Whether we look out upon It when spring 
clothes the landscape In a mantle of vlvld 
gold and yellow— gold ot broom and yellow 
of buttercups — or when the note of the 
meadow lark, the resinous smell of the pines 
and the wildfiowers wilting In the hot little 
fists of the school children, have one tale 
to tell— that the living spirit ot summer is 
with us; wh€n the grand artist, Autumn, Is 
spendthrift with his colors, or when winter 
closes the scene with a soft dusting of 
snow on the pines, and diamond sparkles 
everywhere — It needs not the eye of a par- 
tisan to see Incomparable beauty here. 


Who bath Dot >een, at early mom. 

A cloudleea sky and radiant aun? 
Who hath Dot Been a proipect bora 

Of thrift BDd peace la llle begun! 

Who hath not seen a falling lent, 

Wbeo blew Ibe winds when yec 'twaa aprlng? 
Who bath not seen a mother's grief. 

Aa slow and aad the church-bells ring! 

Who hath not Been the rlrers flow. 

Flow ever onward to the sea? 
Wbo hath not Been the mlllloDH go, 

Go march lag to eternity! 



By See M. Smoke. 

When my friend Bill Case bought the old 
chicken ranch on the west shore of Vashon 
Island, his wife said he was a goose. When 
he announced his Intention of living there, 
she declared he was crazy. When he set 
the date on which their Seattle home was 
to be vacated, and the removal made, she 
threatened to have him examined as to his 

Bill was pretty well acquainted with his 
wife, having been married to her for some 
fifteen years, during which time he had 
always apparently let her have her own 
way, and his friends frequently hinted by a 
mere question or suggestion that the wife 
was boss; and yet Bill always did just about 
as he pleased after all. 

So he went right ahead with his prepara- 
tions, and the date for moving crept gradu- 
ally closer, until it was about two weeks off. 
Meanwhile "Nancy," as Bill always called 
her, kept thinking of the matter, until she 
now was practically convinced that her hus- 
band was right. A week later she could 
hardly wait for the time to come. After 
she had been settled a week on the ranch, 
she was so enthusiastic that money could 
not have hired her to live anywhere else. 
The more she saw of the beach the more 
she loved it. Every time she wandered up 
the beautiful, shady, cool road leading back 
to the center of the island, she wondered 
how she could have loved any other place. 

After they were nicely settled they sent 
for me to come over and stay a few days 
with them. I had always been a frequent 
caller at their house, Bill and 1 having 
been chums for a number of years, though 
he was five years older than I. 

Bill's invitation was received at a time 
when I was feeling the intolerable lonesome- 
ness of my bachelor quarters, and without 
waiting to notify my friend when I would 
come, I took the first boat, and dropped in 
on my friends the next day after receipt 
of their letter. 

Just before going to the boat I bought 
a box of candy for Bill's twelve-year-old 
daughter, Bessie, of whom I had always made 
quite a pet on my visits to their home. As 
soon as the boat was out of the harbor, I 
went into the ladies' cabin, to avoid the 
wind, which was blowing very briskly. 
Placing the box of candy on a small table 
in the cabin where others had placed va- 
rious packages, I spent my time for the 

next hour in reading a newspaper which I 
had placed in my pocket to take to Bill; 
occasionally taking a glance at the occu- 
pants of the cabin. I noticed particularly 
a young lady a little under medium size, 
with a bright, pleasing face, that would be 
called neither pretty, handsome nor striking, 
and yet attractive. In fact, I looked at her 
several times; as I was impressed with her 
appearance; and my eyes would wander 
in her direction frequently In spite of my- 

As I picked up my package of candy from 
the table on arrival at my landing place, 
my eye inadvertently fell upon a small grip 
among the packages. A card had been tied 
to the handle .and on it was written in a 
neat hand, "Frances Trask, Tacoma." The 
street address was also there, but I did not 
take it in particularly, and could not have 
told what it was ten seconds afterwards. 

On my arrival at Bill's I handed Bessie 
the package of candy, and was busy chat- 
ting with Bill and Nancy when Bessie 
broke out with, "Oh, Uncle George!" — she 
always called me Uncle — "these slippers 
are just lovely; they are beauties, and they 
are just my size. How did you know what 
size to get? You are just the best uncle 
in the world. What can I say or do to 
thank you for these?" And she held out be- 
fore us a pair of slippers that were indeed 
beauties. I could not help admiring them 
even while I was thunderstruck at the con- 
tents of that box of candy. Cold shivers 
ran down my back as I realized that I must 
have taken from the cabin table a package 
belonging to some ore else and left in its 
place toe candy. What should I do? It 
would be cruel to dash Bessie's happiness 
by confessing the truth. I could not do it 
My heart was too tender. I must have ap- 
peared strange to my friends as I received 
Bessie's effusive thanks in such a dumb and 
startled manner, but it was up to me to pre- 
vent Bessie's finding out the mistake and 
to square myself with the owner of the slip- 
pers afterwards. 

I noticed that Bessie had left the paper, 
which had been wrapped about the box, ly- 
ing on the dining room table where she 
had unwrapped the package. I watched my 
opportunity and when I could do so without 
attracting special attention I carelessly 
picked up the paper, apparently without any 
particular purpose in mind, and began to 



smooth and fold it, watching eagerly never- 
theless for any mark or sign that would aid 
me in discovering its owner. Before I had 
completed the folding process, my search 
was rewarded by the discovery that a name 
and address were written lightly in pencil 
in about the middle of the paper. I con- 
tinued the folding process so hastily that I 
feared I had attracted Nancy's attention to 
my strange actions, and then slowly rolled 
the folded paper and kept it in my hands as 
a sort of toy. My friends must have thought 
me unusually nervous, for ordinarily I was 
completely the opposite. 

At the first opportunity I invited Bill to 
show me his chickens, and while we were 
looking them over I managed to separate 
myself from him long enough to get a look 
at the p^iciled address, which I found to 

be "Frances Trask, No. 1219 Street, 

Tacoma." I quickly thrust the paper in my 
pocket, and for the remainder of the even- 
ing I must have been a puzzle to my friends, 
although they were kind enough to make 
no remarks on my dullness and apparent 
absorption in matters foreign to the topics 
of oonversatlon. 

Before retiring I told them that it would 
be necessary for me to return to Seattle in 
the morning, but that I would return later, 
possibly the next day, and complete my 
visit. I admitted that I had intended stay- 
ing longer, but the only excuse I could con- 
jure up for my quick return was that I had 
a very important matter coming up that I 
had entirely overlooked when I left Seattle; 
that it must be attended to on the morrow, 
and assured them I would return and make 
them a good, long visit as soon as the mat- 
ter was closed. It was true enough I had 
overlooked the matter when I left Seattle, 
for I had never had it in mind until Bessie 
opened that box, but it had been in my mind 
constantly after it arrived there. 

Bill could not stand my mysterious con- 
duct any longer, and when I made such a 
tame excuse for my sudden return, he broke 
out, "What's on your mind, Oeorge? You 
haven't been like yourself since you come. 
I can't fathom you. Out with it, old man." 

"Bill," I answered, "you will have to ex- 
cuse me for my unpardonable conduct, and 
also for not telling you what is on my mind, 
but there are reasons why I feel that I ought 
not to do so, so please do not ask me re- 
garding the matter at present. I may be 
able to tell you later, possibly on my re- 

The following morning found me at the 
landing half an hour before the boat from 
Tscoma was due. I walked the wharf im- 
patiently, my mind still upon the recent 

events which seemed to put me in such an 
awkward plight. As the boat, approached 
the wharf I scanned the faces of the people 
upon the bow, and was agreeably surprised 
to discover among them the face of the 
young lady I had noticed in the cabin the 
previous day. She scrutinized intently the 
people on the wharf, and when she caught 
sight of me I saw at once from her expres- 
sion that she had discovered the person for 
whom she was looking. 

She waited until I stood a little apart 
from the other passengers, then approached 
me and in the most ladylike and dignified 
manner said, "I beg your pardon, sir, but if 
I am not mistaken you are the gentleman 
who sat in the ladies' cabin on this boat yes- 
terday, and left the boat at this landing. Am 
I correct?" 

"I guess you are," I replied, "and possibly 
I may be able to guess why you ask me. 
Was it your package I took from the table 
as r went out?" 

"Did it contain a pair of slippers?" she 

"A most beautiful pair, and of much great- 
er value than the box of candy I left for 
you, but they were too small for me, and 
I gave them to a young girl, the daughter of 
my friend where I visited last evening." 

"I must say I think you were a little hasty 
in giving away the property of another. One 
would expect an honest man to at least 
make an effort to find the owner after dis- 
covering his mistake. I had supposed from 
your appearance that I could class you in 
that manner, but your statement leaves me 
in doubt I have your box of candy in the 
cabin and should like to deliver same and 
get my slippers. If you are a gentleman 
you will comply with my request" 

"One moment ma'am; I must do myself 
the justice to say that I had given them 
away before discovering my error, and in 
order to rectify my mistake, I cut my visit 
short and am now on my way to Seattle to 
purchase a pair of slippers as near the du- 
plicate of the ones you had, as it is possible 
to find in the city. It was my intention to 
mail them to Miss Florence Trask, of Ta- 
coma. After discovery of my error F found 
that name written on the paper wrapped 
about the box. I assume you are the lady." 

"Tes, sir! your assumption is correct in 
that regard; but not in your assuming that 
any other pair of slippers will answer my 
purpose. Those slippers were a gift from 
my father and were given to me yesterday 
just before his departure for Yokohama, 
where he has gone on business and will be 
gone a long time. I insist, sir, that if yon 



are a gentleman you will see that my own 
slippers are returned to me." 

"Miss Trask, I shall see that your slip- 
pers are returned to you. I had hoped that 
a duplicate pair would answer every pur- 
pose; but the ' statement you have made 
convinces me that you should have the orig- 
inal. It will be a very awkward matter for 
me to arrange, and I must ask you to as- 
sist me." 

I then related the whole of my awkward 
experiences, and at its conclusion she 
laughed heartily at the situation, and sug- 
gested a solution which appealed to me as 
practical and not difficult to carry out. She 
offered to go with me to the shoe store 
where her father had purchased the slip- 
pers, and assist me in getting an exact du- 
plicate pair. 

I was to return to the Island on the aft- 
ernoon boat and manage to exchange the 
slippers without Bessie's knowledge, and 
after I had finished my visit with my friends 
there, I was to see that Miss Trask's slip- 
pers were properly delivered. I confess I 
could see no way of doing, the latter that 
would be safer and surer than for me to go 
in person and deliver them. 

When I suggested this to Miss Trask, 
she said the only trouble she feared on 
that score was that I would give them to 
some other young lady before I reached 
Tacoma, or trade them for some other per- 
son's box. On my assurance that when I 
had once obtained possession of them I 
would be a competent body-guard for them 
until I had delivered them personally into 
her hands, she no longer opposed this part 
of my plan. 

Fortunately, we were able to find another 
pair of exactly the same size, and that aft- 
ernoon I returned to my friends, and Miss 
Trask returned to Tacoma, her sole pur- 
pose in taking this trip having been to locate 
her slippers. 

This time, on my arrival, my spirits were 
high, and I was just the opposite of what 
I had been the day before. In fact, I was 
so hilarious that I was afraid Bill would 
think I was losing my mind, there being 
so much difference between my condition 
then and now. But how should I get an 
opportunity to exchange those slippers, with- 
out Miss Bessie's knowledge. In spite of 
my hilarity this thought was constantly in 
my mind. I knew the exchange could be 
made by making a confidante of Nancy, but 
I was not sure that this would be a safe 
course, for I feared Bessie would sooner or 
later learn the truth. I made up my mind 
that I would not disclose the facts to either 
Bill or Nancy, except as a last resort. 

I had been there two days and not a nign 
of the slippers had I seen. On the third 
day I was getting desperate when, finding 
myself alone in the sitting room with Bes- 
sie, and knowing BUI and his wife to be 
out among the chickens, I asked Bessie if 
she had tried on the slippers yet. 

"Oh, yes, and they are a spl^&dld fit," 
she replied. 

That did not help out any, so I said, "What 
size are they?" 

"Threes," said Bessie. 

"How are the heels — are they not a little 
too high for you?" 

"Oh, no, they are just right" 

Getting desperate, I said, "Would you 
mind letting me see them a minute? I 
would like to see the name of tne manu- 
facturers, as I have in mind getting a pair 
of the same make for my cousin in Wis- 
consin." . 

I did not have sense enough to stop at the 
right point, for she told me the name of the 
makers at once, and of course it was un- 
necessary for her to go after them. 

I seemed farther than ever from accom- 
plishing my purpose. I finally resolved to 
abandon the indirect method of procedure, 
and blurted out: "Will you let me have 
a look at those slippers, Bessie, so I won't 
make any mistake if I get a pair for my 

She went at once for the slippers, and 
returning, handed me the box. "Now, if I 
could get her out of the room for a min- 
ute," I thought. This was a poser for me. 
I had never been in the habit of asking her 
to run on any errands for me. It was the 
hardest task I had struck yet in this awk- 
ward business. If her mother had not called 
to her from the outside, I might have been 
sitting there still, like a bump oh a log, 
looking at those slippers. My room was 
near, and I had the box with the duplicate 
slippers in my room in my valise. 

As Bessie passed through the door at her 
mother's call, I headed for my room, slip- 
pers and box in my hands. In my haste I 
dropped the cover on the fioor without no- 
ticing it. Opening my valise as quickly as 
I could, in my nervous haste, I dropped the 
slippers and box into it, at the same time 
picking up the other box. Returning to the 
sitting room, I placed the box, slippers and 
all, on the table, noticed the cover of the 
other box, stooped to pick it up, and as I 
regained a standing posture looked into the 
face of Nancy in the doorway. 

"Why, that cover seems just like the one 
on the box there," said Qhe. 

"So it does." said I, as I stood there blush- 
ing like a silly school girl. 



"I wonder where It came from," said 

"Why, I had another box Just like It that 
I got at the shoe store, and I dropped the 
cover a 'moment ago," I replied. 

"Well, that'B odd, George. I Juat believe 
there's aome mystery about those a Uppers 
and you don't like to tell ua what It 1b. Why 
should you be glTlng fancy slippers to 12- 
year-old school girls? Own up, George; 
clear up the mystery. Tell me ahout the 
young lady In the case, for you can't foal 
me. Toung men past thirty are not so trlv- 
okniB as to be giving away fancy allppers, 
uDless there la aome good reaaon for It." 

1 was in tor It, and told her the whole 
story, on a strict promise from her that It 
should never be disclosed to Bessie. 

1 delivered the slippers In person to Miss 
Trask. It was not the last time 1 saw her. 
And I have always rejoiced that my friends 
went to live on Vftshon Island, and that 
I made the blunder of taking the wrong 
package: tor if either of these occurrences 
had been omitted 1 might never have met 
the lady who la now my wife. 

Bessie learned through Frances, after our 
marriage, of the slipper episode; and I 
believe she values her slippers more be- 
cause she acquired them by accident rather 
than by my intention, lor she says that she 
would not part with them under any cir- 
cumstances. She says they are sUppeta with 
a history, and were Instrumental In secur- 
ing her a brand new aunt, to whom she Is 
very much attached, and so am 1. 


Thou apErit. of all tblags wild sod true. 

Slrcagtb of the tornt sod brebdtli of tbe (i«a ; 

Iromlfle of verdure jret to be. 

And Life's eternsl mjeterj'. 

White dltk, tbou art pure as IlIe'B sprlog. 

Ag liope In the heart of a lad. 

Oh < ma; I not gee tbee when marred 

Like tbat heart grawD aour sod sad. 

— Linda JennlDgB. 







Synopsis of Prior Chaftsrs. 

Chapter I. — ^The Early History of the Scratcher 
Family. Chapter II. — In the Home of Wilson 
B. Clond— Accident Making Little Lizzie a Crip- 
ple for Life — Death of Mr. Cload — Collection of 
Inaorance Policies — Mrs. Cloud's Intimate Rela- 
tions with Mr. Scroggs, Attorney. Chapter III. — 
In the Law Office of Scroggs & Bluff — The 
Settlement of the Matterson Case Against Dick 
Scratcher — Dick Beginning the Study of Law in 
the Office of Scroggs & Bluff. Chapter IV. — The 
Wages of Sin — Blanche Matterson Deserted by 
Dick Scratcher — Blanche Qoes East to Michigan. 
Chapter V. — Dick Scratcher Studies Law with 
Scroggs & Bluff — His Uncle Gives Him Charge of 
Ills Timber Land — The Letter from Blanche. 
Chapter VI.— The Story of the Find of Gold in 
Klondyke — Scroggs & Bluff, with Dick, Organize 
"The Klondyke Company" — The Rush North — Seat- 
tle Booms. Chapter VI. — The People Coming to 
Seattle — The Trip of Michael Sears to Seattle 
and His Meeting Blanche — The Anxiety of Dick 
after He Had Gotten His Uncle to Sign a Note 
for $20,000 Instead of a Contract — Michael Sears 
Takes Desk Room with Scroggs & Bluff. Chapter 
VIII. — Blanche at Home with Her Parents — The 
Answer to Blanche's Letter — Mother Matterson, 
**My Blanchie, he Is fooling you : Dick is only 
fooling'* — "Mother, I love blm, for all tbe pain he 
caused me.** Chapter IX. — Mr. Matterson's de- 
scription of the Seattle Fire. Chapter X. — Some 
Characteristic Happenings in tbe Home of Dick 
Scratcher — The Plot to Have Michael Sears 
Drugged in a Variety Theatre. Chapter XI. — 
Beginning of Michael Sears* Cbnrcb Relations in 
Seattle — l)escrlptIon of a Seattle Gambling 
House. Chapter XII. — Pen-picture of an Old- 
Time Variety Theatre in Seattle — The Drugging 
of Michael Sears— The Mighty Power. Chapter 
XIII. — Endeavor to entrap Blanche. Michael Sears 
Hected 8. S. Supt. XIV. — Michael Sears meets 
Ruth Tlldon. XV.— The Note Case. XVI.— A 
small amount of fruttbearUig. XVIT. — Michael 
Sears is given a room at Mrs. Cloud's house. The 
rush of Blanche to commit snlclde. The voice of 
the Mighty Power. XVIII — The pathway of love. 
Description Mt. Rainier. XIX — Concerning the 
practice of law. Blanche Matterson working In a 
restaurant. XX — Mrs. Cloud allows Michael Sears 
to remain at her home. Mrs. Cloud tries to keep 
Michael from the church fair. Will It be Mrs. 
Cloud or Ruth Tlldon who marries Michael Sears? 
XXI — Michael proposes to Ruth llldon and is ac- 
cepted — Suit is begun against Dick by Mrs. Cloud. 
XXII — Dick enlightens Mr. Tlldon, Ruth's father, 
about Sears' past history — Ruth sent off to Boston 
to school — Michael made editor of church paper. 
XXIII — Mrs. Cloud grows very kind to Mr. Sears 
— Prissle Mai gets present from Dick — Dick elect- 
ed to the legislature — Dick buys Blanche a bicycle 
— The Preacher has a talk with Dick and learns 
of Michael Sears and the theatre episode — Trouble 
brews. ChapterXXIV. — Christmas Amenities — Mr. 
Sears Dips Into Politics — Friction Between the 
Church Authorities and the Sabbath School Su- 
perintendent. Chapter XXV. — Some Inner His- 
tory of Church Politics — ^The Church Paper Cre- 
ates excitement. Chapter XXVI. — Some Church 

Politics in which Sears gets the worst of it. 
Chapter XXVII. — Michael Sears Resigns from Sab- 
l ath School — He is Thrown Out with no Recourse 
— His Hopes are a Vote of the School and Vindi- 
cation. Chapter XXVIII.— Ruth Tlldon's Mall is 
Intercepted and Communication with Her Affianced 
Cut Off — She Believes Michael Innocent — ^The Mys- 
tery of PrlssIe Mai Revealed — Prissle Mai Aban- 
donsr Her BvII Life. 



The case of Matterson vs Scratcher bad 
been set for trial. Dick had endeavored in 
every way possible to settle it. He had 
even gone so far as to ofCer Amos Matter- 
son one thousand dollars to dismiss the 
action. But Amos Matterson was steadfast 
and immovable to all urging and importu- 
Lity, for it was duty with him — not pleas- 
ure. Dick, as a last resort, then took it into 
his head to get Blanche, the only witness 
against him, out of the way. With her gone, 
the case against him he thought would cer- 
tainly have to fail. 

That spring was an early and pleasant 
spring. Days of bright sunshine had fol- 
lowed an early closing winter. The bicycle 
paths were daily thronged with cyclists. He 
would have Blanche followed on one of her 
rides! Such was one of Dick's plans. He 
would follow her himself and get her out of 
the way somehow! And thuswise Dick 
Scratcher ervolved and devised methods of 
lifting himself out of his trouble. 

One day he saw Blanche ahead of him 
in a lonely spot on the Lake Washington 
bicycle path. He at once pushed ahead 
v/ith all his might to overtake her. He bent 
over his wheel and exerted himself to his 
utmost. His last glimpse of her was when 
he saw her around a turn ahead of him 
just across a ravine, gliding gracefully and 
easily along. He felt that he much reach 
her before she could get away, for now 
certainly had come the opportunity for 
which he had been long waiting and many 
times planned. On he pedaled fiercely until 
he came to a down-grade, at the foot of 
which he knew there was a quick turn. 

This story began In the September number. 



He knew the turn was dangerous, but 
that didn't matter now. He had to catch 
up with Blanche Matteraon, and do that 
as soon as possible. Upon his overtaking 
her then and there, in his mind rested a 
great importance. So, Instead of decreasing 
his speed, he forged ahead the faster. Some 
one might meet him! That made no differ- 
ence; he didn't care! All he thought and 
knew was that he must reach Blanche Mat- 
terson before she had passed through that 
lonely place. He bent over his wheel, and 
in a great exertion pushed himself ahead 
faster and faster. 

At the foot of the hill was a culvert. The 
rains had washed away the dirt from the 
wooden box. With head bent down, he did 
not see the notices "Go slow!" **Danger," 
so on he rushed. Down! Down! and when 
his wheel struck the foot of the declivity, 
it' twisted away from under him and he 
was hurled by his momentum up against 
a gnarled old stump several feet distant. 
Senseless, with a gaping wound in his head, 
he lay there bleeding and motionless. 

Returning by that way a short time aft- 
erward, Blanche Matterson noticed the 
broken and twisted wheel and, hearing the 
groans that came from the wounded person 
by the wayside, hastily dismounted and went 
over to the spot where he lay. 

"Dick!" she exclaimed, with a beating 
heart, "are you hurt!" Taking his hat, she 
rushed over to a pool near by and, bringing 
water, bathed his wounds. Pity, sympathy, 
kindness overcame her, as she cared for 
him and brought him back to semi-con- 
sciousness. Then, as she made him easy 
and awaited for some one to pass — she 
could not leave him — a smouldering spark 
of love within her breast burst up into a 
tiny flame. 

"Dick! Say, Dick! Does that rest you?" 
she asked as she laid his head upon her 
lap, but the only answer that he gave her 
was a groan. "He must be very badly hurt." 
she thought. "Oh, I wish someone would 
come! There are so many always going 
by! Won't someone come!" Then, in a 
short time, some one did come, and Dick 
was taken home in an unconscious and 
moaning condition — great, strong, healthy, 
active self-willed Dick, who had been lead- 
ing a wild and reckless life and dissipat- 
ing more than ever at that very time. 

"Oh, Mr. Sears," said Lizzie, the evening 
after the conversation with the preacher 
in his office when Michael Sears came home, 
"Uncle Dick's awful hurt! Mamma's gone 
down to see him! Lizzie wants you to come 
in and tell her stories!" and the child took 

hold of him and pulled him into the sitp 
ting room up to a chair before the fire. 

But Michael Sears only sat down, lost 
in his own despairing thoughts and won- 
dering what would become of Dick Scratcher, 
if he died! He was also revolving in his 
mind the puzzle, why Ruth Tildon wrote 
him such pleading letters and why his 
letters did not reach her. He was also try- 
ing to conjecture what the outcome of his 
present difficulties would be. 

"Oh, say!" cried Lizzie, pulling at his 
sleeve, "Lizzie's got a riddle you can't an- 
swer — Why is a sailor like a little girl at a 


'Well! Well!" he said, making himself 
appear as if thinking for a moment, "I can't 
teU, Lizzie!" 

"Give up?" she asked. 

"Uh-huh!" he grunted. 

"Why, he goes to see!" she gleefully re- 

"Now, Lizzie, I've got a new one for you," 
then said Mr. Sears, really getting inter- 
ested. "Why is a small hill like a lazy 
young dog?" 

"Oh, I know that! Mamma told me that 
one. It's because — because — Now, I've for- 
got it! Why is it, Mr. Sears?" she asked. 

"Give up?" he queried. 

"Yep!" she said. 

"Well, it's a little " 

"Slope up!" she exclaimed, interrupting 
him. "Now, you tell me, when is a word not 
a word, but a young lady?" 

"Now you have got me!" he cried out. 

"Why, when it is amiss!" she burst out, 
and when he seemed to be in a deep study 
over it, and not quite understand, she ex- 
plained, "Don't you see? A MISS!" 

"Huh! Huh! That's a good one! Now, 
I'll give you a sticker — listen! Can you tell 
me why a wee might of a boy with a little 
bit of a hat and a great big pot of glue, 
is like George Washington?" he asked her, 
in an air of mystery. 

"Because he's got his little hat yet!" she 
answered like a shot. 


'That's all right as far as it goes; but 
you haven't said anything yet about the 
great big pot of glue!" he explained. 

"The pot of glue! Lizzie don't see where 
the pot of glue comes in," she said. 

"That is the sticker!" he laughed, when 
she climbed up on his knee and pulled at 
his coat, exclaiming: 

"Oh, you're always fooling Lizzie! Now 
tell Lizzie a story — a real, good one." 

He then told her stories until she grew 
tired of them, when he jumped up from 
the chair in which he was sitting, and said. 




Gome on, Lizzie, let's get old Tom and 
put boots on him!" 

** What's that?" she asked, all fiill of inter- 
est in a moment. 

"You get the cat, and I'll show you," he 

"You Dfon't hurt him?" she questioned. 

"No; of course not;" he assured her, 
when she went into the other room and 
returned in a few seconds lugging big, fat 
Tom in her arms and grunting at every step 
she took. 

"Now, you get some paper, like mamma 
gets the meat in, and a great, long string," 
he directed, and, wondering with uncer- 
tainty as to what was going to befall pussy- 
cat Tom, she brought in the paper and 
string. But, before giving it to him, she 

"You're not going to hurt him?" 

"No, I'll not hurt him," he answered, tying 
the heavy brown paper around Tom's feet 
When he had thus fixed the cat, he said, 
going out into the dining room with the fat 
fellow in his arms: 

"Now, you just take the cover off the 
table," and when she did so he put the 
cat upon the hard-oiled surface. While be- 
ing held in Mr. Sear's arms, Tom lazily 
blinked his eyes; but when he was put 
down on the table, he went into action. 

Behold! He went to step forward and 
lifted his paws in a peculiar, careful manner 
and then looked around as he heard his 
footsteps upon the table's polished top. thor- 
oughly astonished at the noise. Flop! Flop! 
it sounded as he walked. He lifted up his 
right hind foot and began kicking up into 
the air. After that he raised up the other 
hind foot and struck up towards the ceil- 
ing. Then he elevated both hind feet and 
kicked ofT into space, accomplishing the 
most difficult acrobatic feats and daring 
and amazing antics known to the feline 
world, while Lizzie stood by and cried and 
yelled with laughter and delight. 

Off from the table he Jumped, flying 
around the room like mad and stopping 
every few seconds to kick out into the 
atmosphere with his hind feet in short, deli- 
cate kicks, fast and furious, punctuated now 
and then with a good, long kick, just for 
emphasis, and all amidst such a medley 
of joy and fun that Mrs. Cloud came in 
unnoUced and, tickled and smiling at the 
cat's astonishing, outlandish capers, was 
one of the audience before they realized it. 
But Tom soon got rid of the boots and 
peace was again restored. 

After putting Lizzie to bed, when they 
were sitting alone together, looking into the 
fire, Mrs. Cloud remarked, "Dick's very ill; 


the doctor thinks he may not recover. 

"Is he prepared to die?" asked Mr. Sears. 

"If he only were!" she exclaimed, with 
a sigh. 

**Dick didn't mean to be bad," he sug- 

"Nor do any of us," she broke in; "we 
just do it, and cani help ourselves!" 

"That is just the reason why we should 
be Christians," he essayed. "Wherein we 
fail, He helps us to succeed." 

"But, I am too bad," said she, "too wicked 
to be a Christian." 

"The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us 
from all sin," remarked Mr. Sears. 

"But I have been too bad!" she sighed. 

"No! No! Mrs. Cloud, not with your 
good, kind heart! Think what an example 
it would be for Lizzie — dear, loving Lizzie!" 

"But, Mr. Sears, you don't know!" she 
broke out sobbing. "I am a murderer; I am 
an adultress; I am all that is wrong!" and 
burying her face in her hands, she wept 
bitterly, moaning, "Oh, if I had only 
known ! " 

"Whosoever cometh unto me, I will in 
no wise cast out, says the Saviour," whis- 
pered Mr. Sears, and, placing his hands 
upon her bowed head, he prayed: 

"Oh, Heavenly Father! Forgive this child 
of Thine, and make her happy with the 
peace of the love of Jesus. Spirit of God, 
come now and breathe Thy healing breath 
upon this wounded heart. Bind up, oh, 
Christ, with Thy everlasting love, this 
broken spirit, for the sake of Thy beloved 
son. Baptize her into the life of Thy joy, 
which passeth all understanding. Amen!" 

"God bless you!" she exclaimed, with a 
bright light of pleasure beaming on her 
face, as he then went to leave. "I shall 
never forget this moment!" and, grasping 
his hand, she breathed a kiss upon it, while 
the tears were streaming from her eyes. 

"Linger in the presence of the Lord, Mrs. 
Cloud, and He will dwell in love with you 
and give you peace. He will comfort your 
soul. He will make your life a way of great 
pleasure. He will go with you through the 
shadow of death. He will abide in you 
unto the end. He will remain by you and 
with you always, forever. 




During the few weeks after the accept- 
ance of Mr. Sears' resignation, members of 
the board took turns in superintending the 
school. Mr. Wllllngworker, Dr. Chaser, and 
the preacher, made inquiries and found out 
that Michael Sears was the unanimous 
choice of the school, and would be re-elected 



If it went to a vote of the members; so the 
preacher, in order to forestall such a circum- 
stance, selected, with the advice of the 
other two of the trio, a stranger just recently 
come to the city, as yet not a member of 
the church organization, and placed him in 
the position. It had been settled at a meet- 
ing of the board that because of the activity 
which Mr. Speculator had displayed against 
Mr. Sears, they would not permit him to take 
the place. When Michael Sears discovered 
the methods they had employed against him, 
his heart burned with a terrible bitterness 
and in his soul he cried out: 

*'They have cut me off from the field in 
which God had put me to work. They have 
severed the ties which bound me in love 
to the pure, true hearts of those I have 
tried to lead aright They have strangled 
and murdered the life I have lived with the 
children — the confiding, the trusting, the 
innocent children! And for what? For 
what? Surely, it will be better for them if 
a mill-stone were hanged around their necks 
and that they were cast into the sea! Now, 
they desire me to leave; but they cannot, 
they shall not drive me out from the church! 
They dare not cut me off from living and 
going before the presence of the living God ! 
God helping me, I will remain; I have done 
no wrong!" 

His enemies were amazed to see him in 
regular attendance at the church services 
and in the Sabbath school. His friends were 
astonished that he still contributed to the 
support of the church and was found in the 
midst of the scholars on Sunday. People 
don't generally do that way. 

"You have an abundance of grace," said 
a mother in the church to him one day, as 
she clasped his hand after Sunday school, 
when he replied: 

"With God, all things are possible." 

The new superintendent did all in his 
power to enthuse the school, but with a 
broken spirit and the loss, for what reason 
they know not why, of their beloved superin- 
tendent, the attendance decreased steadily 
and fell away. As a last resort, the preacher, 
at the instigation of Mr. Willingworker and 
Dr. Chaser, suggested that the presence of 
Michael Sears was the cause of it all, and 
with him out of the way, all would go well 
again. So, in pursuance of this advice, 
notice was served on the offender to appear 
before the board and answer the seven 
charges booked against him, which, if they 
were sustained, meant expulsion. They 

1. He is a drunkard. 

2. He is a whoremonger. 

3. He is a liar. 

4. He is a stirrer up of strife. 

5. He breaks faith. 

6. He is a frequenter of saloons. 

7. He swears. 

"Can I not have the charges made more 
specific as to time and places of acts alleged 
to have been committed?" asked Michael 
Sears, when given the notice. 

"You well know when you did as alleged," 
said the preacher; "it is needless to spe- 
cify." • 

"And further," said Mr. Willingworker, 
who had accompanied the preacher on this 
important errand, in order to see what Sears 
would or might do and say, "it is the custom 
of our church never to particularize in such 
matters — it will be disclosed at the hearing 
before the board, when you appear to answer 
them. Everything must be done strictly 
according to rule and by-law, and in an or- 
derly manner. You feel guilty; now, don't 

"No, sir! I am innocent, before God!" 
rang out the strong, rich voice of Mr. Sears, 
with vehemence. 

"We will see about that later," viciously 
intimated Mr. Willingworker. 

"But when will the hearing be?" Sears 
asked, with remarkable coolness and self- 

"Next Friday afternoon, at 2 o'clock," said 
the preacher, as he nervously sucked his 

"Why so soon?" asked Mr. Sears; but. 
heeding not his query, the two turned and 
went away. 

"A drunkard, a whoremonger, a liar, a 
stirrer up of strife, a faith-breaker, a fre- 
quenter of saloons, a swearer!" repeated Mr. 
Sears to himself after he had read the paper 
when they were gone. "If my dear father 
hears about this, it will break his heart! 
And my dear mother — Oh, God! Help your 
erring child— Oh, God!" 

Blanche Matterson lived a few doors away 
from the home of Dick Scratcher, now the 
Hon. Richard A. Scratcher, and, as he lay 
upon his bed of suffering, knowing naught 
of what went on around him, she daily 
worked with Mrs. Scratcher and assisted in 
caring for and nursing him. Dick's sister. 
Susan, was sent for and came up from 
Portland and helped as best she could. In 
his ravings, Dick would often cry out: 

"Blanche! Blanche! Don't do it! Ha! 
Ha! I will reach her! I will overtake her! 
I must reach her!" and it seemed that in 
his mind he was often riding on a wild 
chase down the bicycle path. At times he 
would cry out fiercely: 




I say I didn't forge his name! By 

I didn't! Sue wrote it! She's the guilty 
party! Take Sue; d— n her! Take Sue!" 
At another time he shrieked: 

"Priss! Priss! Don't kill me! Leave 
me go! Priss, you old hag! You've dogged 
me long enough! Leave hold of me! Here* 
here, take the money and don't come after 
me again!" Many times he yelled: 

"I say, they are genuine; gentlemen, they 
are genuine. He signed them. It's a d — n 

'^Blanche Matterson! I will overtake her! 
D — n that pedal! My head! Oh, don't let 
me die!" he would yell out in most piteous 
tones when Blanche would caress his face 
with her hand and quiet him. Mrs. 
Scratcher and Susan could do very little 
with him. It was strange how Blanche could 
control him and soothe him. He would often 
rave in such a rage that great beads of per- 
spiration stood out upon his forehead. Thus 
six weeks the fever held upon him, but with 
his great strength and powerful physique 
he battled on, on to seemingly certain death. 

One evening, as Blanche sat alone at his 
bedside, watching, and when Mother 
Scratcher was snatching a few moments of 
needed sleep in the adjoining room, Dick 
suddenly opened his ey^s from a troubled 
stupor and In a normal tone, said: 

"Mother! Where is mother?" 

Slipping from his side, Blanche aroused 
Mrs. Scratcher and brought her to him. 

"Mother?" he asked. 

"Aye, Dickie!" she replied, kissing his pal- 
lid brow, when Susan came in. 

'Sue! Is that you?" he asked. 

'Tes, dearie," she said, choking with emo- 
tion as she pressed his hand. 

"Am I going to die, mother?" 

"Noo, darlint!" quickly spoke the old lady; 
"ye'll git wall, ye will." 

"Who's that, mother?" whispered the sick 
one, as Blanche came into the room. 

"That's Blanche, dearie." said his sister. 

"Blanche Matterson?" he said feebly. 

"Blanche Matterson," she replied; when, 
closing his eyes, he went into a peaceful 

Having slept for a number of hours, Dick 
awoke and found Blanche at his side watch- 
ing. She gave him his medicine, when he 
said, in a feeble, quivering voice: 

"Blanche, is that you?" 

"Yes, Dick! But you must be quiet now. 
and not talk." 

"How long have I been this way?" 

"Over six weeks, Dick!" and she tenderly 
stroked bis cheek and brushed his fore- 
head, bidding him not to talk, and rest. But 
he would not be still, and he asked her: 



"Tell me, am I going to die?" 

"No, Dick, we hope you won't die. Now be 
quiet and rest!" 

"Blanche, pray for me, that I won't die. 
When I get well, I will be good then. Won't 
you?" he piteously pleaded. 

Then, leaning over him, that he could 
her her, she prayed for him that he would 
get well and that God would forgive him of 
all his sins. That prayer was only heard 
by those two there and the God to whom it 
was directed. When she had concluded, In 
a sweet peace of heart and mind, he dropped 
ofT into a tranquil slumber. As he lay there 
before her, motionless and still, softly breath- 
ing in his feeble condition, with a smile 
upon his countenance of contentment and 
Joy, Blanche stooped down and breathed a 
kiss upon his thin, pale cheek. Then, as 
she carefully brushed a lock of hair back 
from his bleached, pallid forehead, tears 
of joy fell from her eyes that he was yet 
among the living, and that God might spare 
him to make a man of himself. Such love 
and hope as burned within her breast the 
world knows not of, nor realizes. 

Yet, with his past life to come up before 
him, and his disposition to return to old 
pleasures and companions, if his life is 
spared, will he do as he intimated? Will 
he, when he goes out before men again» 
live a good life? Or, is it the fanciful prom- 
ise of a despairing, dying man, made only 
to be broken? 

In her bright, airy room at Boston, Miss 
Ruth Tildon sat drearily looking out of the 
window across the view of green grass 
and bursting buds. Her hair hung down 
loosely over her snowy shoulders. She had 
just arisen from a troubled, restless slum- 
ber. The sun was Just coming up and 
peering over the roofs of the houses, and 
birds in chattering crowds were filling the 
air with their wild notes. Four weeks had 
passed, and she had not received a line from 
Michael Sears. Four long, dreary, dismal 
weeks! Her father's letters still remained 
among others in a heap upon her stand. 
There, also, was the letter from.Prissie Mai 
(Martha Sutherland), which lay open by the 
envelope. She had lost all interest in her 
studies and had no appetite whatever. A 
revulsion came over her every time she sat 
at the table. A sad and anxious look hung 
over her countenance. 

"Why don't he write to me!" she heard 
her longing heart crying. "Perhaps he has 
so keenly felt his humiliation that he cannot 
write! Perhaps he has gone away from 
Seattle! Perhaps — ah! But he would never 
kill himself! He is a christian. He must 



be sick. Something must have happened 
to him/' she thought; when, arising, she 
exclaimed, "I must go to him! I must see 
him! I must know! I will go! I will go!" 
and she paced up and down the room re- 

"Michael! Oh, Michael! Why don't you 
write!" Then she flung herself across her 
bed and burst into a flood of tears. A 
heavy, throbbing, bursting pain swelled her 
temples as she lay there and sobbed. 

"Oh, loved one! Dear Michael! Why 
don't you write? I cannot stand it much 
longer ! It will kill me ! It will kill me ! " 


'Mr. Sears," said Mrs. Cloud, when he told 
her about the notice and the coming trial 
before the board, "I don't see how you can 
be a Christian, when those people up there 
treat you so!" 

"By the grace of God ail things are pos- 
sible, Mrs. Cloud," he replied. "I wiU tri- 
umph. I know I will!" 

"That's what you said, when you put in 
your resignation!" she retorted. 

"And I will triumph in the end, Mrs. 
Cloud; you see if I don't, if it is right to 
triumph and God wills it," he answered. 

"If your God can bring about such a result 
in that church, then He can save me. Mr. 
Sears, ii you conquer, I will become a Chris- 
tian!" she said, with most earnest serious- 

"Don't say that, Mrs. Cloud; don't place 
your soul's salvation upon the uncertain 
happenings and doings of men; it may be 
for the best that I be expelled — God knows!" 
he argued with her. 

"You almost make me be a Christian, Mr. 
Sears!" she admitted. 

"Not I, but the Spirit in me," he replied. 

"Would that I had the confidence, joy 
and faith that you have," she exclaimed. 
I am praying, Mrs. Cloud, that you shall." 

"Do you think I will?" 

"You will." 



On the day of the board meeting, for the 
flrst time in many months a full quorum 
was in attendance. Mr. Tlldon, who had 
at previous meetings purposely absented 
himself, was there. Bach one present felt 
that it was to be such an important meeting 
that their presence was demanded. Michael 
Sears had arranged for Prissie Mai, Mr. 
Bates and Mr. Flyer to come. Mrs. Cloud 
had consented and, indeed, had asked to go 
and testify of the purity and integrity of 
his private life. The members of the Sab- 

bath school, with anxious hearts, were 
watching and waiting for the outcome. 
Members of the church, with deep interest, 
waited to hear the decision. Lizzie said, 
as he left the house with her mother: 

"Lizzie's prayin' God for you; Lizzie's 
prayin* God for you!" 

Going back to where she stood, and tak- 
ing her up in his arms, he kissed her and 
said : 

"Thank you, Lizzie. You're a good girl — 
and while you pray for me, pray, also, that 
mamma may become a Christian." 

Never to be forgotten was the scene that 
met Michael Sears' eyes as he entered the 
room where the board met. There, in the 
midst of them, in the center of a large 
circle, was the witness chair; Just a step 
to one side, behind it, was the chair and 
table of the preacher, and in front of the 
preacher and the witness chair was the 
place for him to sit. 

After a prayer offered by the elderly 
father, who sat near Mr. Sears, the preacher 
said, sucking his teeth and in a manner 
appearing anxious to begin, "Mr. Clark, you 
will now read the charges." When they 
were enumerated, he said: 

"What have you to say in explanation, 
Mr. Sears?" 

"I ask that they be specified as to time 
and place," he replied. 

"Gentlemen," then spoke the preacher, "I 
have been to see the one person who knows 
all about these facts from his own eyes, but 
he is not able to be here — he is sick. I ask 
that the matter be postponed for a week 
or so." 

"We are all here now," spoke up a mem- 
ber, "and I don't see why we can't dispose 
of this matter at once. Mr. Willingworker, 
Dr. Chaser and Mr. Speculator have said 
that they have investigated the facts, and 
know them to be true; so, also, has our 
chairman. I understand that Mr. Tildon, 
who is with us today, is also acquainted with 
the circumstances. I don't see why we 
shouldn't dispose of it now." 

It was decided to proceed. 

"Now," said the preacher, with a face as 
red as a lobster, again sucking his teeth 
before beginning, "it's this way: He was 
once seen drunk in the arms of a variety 
actress in a box at a low-dive theatre; he 
has been frequently seen in her company 
since, especially of late; he told me that 
he was on the moral side in the last po- 
litical campaign against vice, and after- 
wards acknowledged having voted with the 
Ins; he has been trying to create trouble 
in our church; he promised us faithfully 
not to say or do anything to keep up the 



Mrlfe be bad begun, as you all well remem- 
ber, uid then he went and wrote articles 
wblcb he publJsbod In the secular press; be 
bas been seen going In and coming out of ea- 
loona; be wae once beard to utter an oath 
In tbe presence of Mr. Speculator, one of 
our number. These are the specifications, 
Mr. Sears. Are you not guilty?" 

"Gentlemen," said Mr. Sears, In a broken 
voice, low and tremulous, "I — I — can only 
say that wbat bas been said is, in tbe main, 
ae to the first two cbarges, true. As to my 
saying tbat I was on tbe moral side ol 
tbe question in the last campaign, and that 
I TOted with the Ins— that Is true. As to my 
trying to create trouble In the church, I 
did not intend by wliat I did to do so. 1 
had nothing whatever to do with the arti- 
cles in the secular papers. I have often 
been In and out of saloons, but only In tbe 
capacity of my law business. I do not re- 
member of ever having uttered an oatb in 
the presence of Mr. Speculator. But, gen- 
tlemen, before you go further and render 
Judgment, may I not have the privilege 
of offering to you some evidence of a few 
wltneasee who, I think, can fully explain 

(To be concluded 

to you tbat I had no moral turpitude in doing 
what I have acknowledged of having done? 
Ton will bear la mind that to constitute a 
criminal otTeuse there must be, with the 
act and Its commission, an evil and wilful 
Intention so to do." 

"I think It Is useless," said the preacher, 
"to further dally with this trlfler. He bas 
acknowledged bis guilt and I deem his au- 
dacious effrontery to be an Insult to our 
sacred offlces." 

•I don't think (cough)" said Dr. Cnaser, 
"that we should (cough)> listen further 
(cough); it is a very plain (cougb) case of 
unprecedented (cough) depravity." 

"Under (ahem)— under the rules of the 
church," said Mr. Willing worker, "we are 
(ahem) warranted In striking bis name from 
the roll of church membership; It is very 
plain to me that he Is only making a laugh- 
ing stock of the dignity and sanctity of our 
authority. He says, in the main, tbat be 
has done all we accuse him of doing, and 
there can be no excuse." 

(lOlDg to a vote, however, it was decided 
by a majority of one to bear what the wit- 
nesses had to say. 



By John Milleb Mubphy. 

Olympia at the outbreak of the Indian war 
consisted of about a dozen small strag- 
gling frame buildings and an equal number 
of Indian wigwams, the latter occupying the 
water front on the west side of the penin- 
sula, about where the Carlton House now 
stands as a center. The Indians outnum- 
bered the whites, but no fear was felt until 
the outbreaks at other points had inspired 
whole tribes with the war spirit. 

Steps were immediately taken by the 
whites for protection. The Indians were told 
to go, and the whole population set to work 
on a day-and-night Job to perfect means of 
defense. A 20-foot stockade was built along 
the line of Fourth Street of four-inch plank, 
from the eastern arm of the bay, where the 
theater stands, to a point where Long Bridge 
spans the western inlet to Westside, then 
known as Marshyille, from the name of the 
owner of the land, Edwin Marsh. There 
were no bridges at that time and the stock- 
ade, therefore, virtually shut out all attack, 
except from the water front. 

The few people who lived outside the en- 
closure moved inside for security, and by 
keeping strict guard and guns loaded — a fact 
well known to the foe, very probably — and 
attacks was averted. To this end an old can- 
non, which had b^n used for firing salutes, 
and came from nobody knew where, served 
a good purpose. This cannon was loaded 
with slugs and kept ready for the match, 
with its muzzle pointed seaward, with a ra- 
dius that doubtless seemed appalling to the 
savage mind. 

A few weeks later the revenue cutter "Jo 
Lam" came to Budd's Inlet and anchored 
abreast of town, and the people again slept 
soundly. The cutter sent ashore a couple 
of cannon, with a supply of canister and 
grape shot, and a couple of score of the old- 
fashioned U. S. muskets, carrying a ball at 
least three-quarters of an inch in diameter, 
muzzle-loaders, using a percussion cap 
shaped like a "stove-pipe" hat, but some- 
what smaller in dimensions. These guns 
were "kickers," and when, after the war, 
some of them were fired off, a lame shoulder 
inevitably resulted. 

A memorable incident of the aftermath 
of the war was the arrest of Judge Lander 

and his court, after Governor Stevens had 
placed the territory under martial law. 
Court was in session in the Corless & En- 
sign Hotel, now the Huggins Hotel, the din- 
ing room being utilized for court room. A 
company of volunteers made the arrest, not- 
withstanding "Jack Baldwin," the wag of 
the community, had hauled to the doorway 
of the court room a few minutes before the 
arrest this same old cannon that had served 
so admirably for a protection at the out- 
break of the war. 

The event caused quite an excitement in 
the little community. Governor Stevens' of- 
fice was in a small building across the street, 
where the Green Tree saloon now stands. 

After the arrest some of the lawyers, who 
had not been included in the arrest, attempt- 
ed to express their indignation over the 
"high-handed outrage," and placing a dry 
goods box in the street fronting the govern- 
or's office, mounted it and began a tirade 
of abuse of the executive. EHwood ESvans 
was the first speaker, but he spoke under 
such great excitement that in the midst of a 
high fiight of oratory he fainted and fell 
from the box. B. F. Kendall, another law- 
yer of considerable eminence in territorial 
days, sprang upon the box and finished a 
speech of matchless invective. 

In the meantime the volunteer company, 
having incarcerated the Judge in the block 
house, were marched to the executive office 
and drawn up in "battle's magnificently 
stem array," to prevent any possibility of 
fanning a possible spark of discord into 

At the close of Kendall's part of the 
speech, Judge Munroe, of the XJ. S. District 
Court for the territory, emerged from the 
governor's office and mounting the same ros- 
trum, in a mild, dispassionate, logical man- 
ner, detailed the necessity which had im- 
pelled the governor to resort to the extreme 
measure of martial law. At its close loud 
applause for the speaker indicated very 
plainly the side the popular heart favored 
during the trying times of a frontier war. 

During this remarkable, not to say excit- 
ing, scene, the governor sat at his offi<;e win- 
dow, with his elbow on the sill, apparent!)^ 
the least disturbed of the several hundred of 
auditors who had assembled on the street. 


By Petes Farlet. 

"Me Is a fool.' 


"Maffy More." 


"BecBDBe " but at that moment a tall, 

lean tellow, with a eallow compleslon and 
roaming, poetic eyes Joined the two who 
were conrerslng, and the dlBCUSsion came 
to an abrupt end. 

"Mr. Wllaon, permit me to Introduce you 
to my friend, Mr, MaRy More — ^Mr. More, 
Mr. WllBon." 

"Mr. More, I am pleased to meet you." 

"And the same to you. Mr. Wilson. Say. 
Princely, I have an idea." 


"Yes," answered More, "you aee, I'm " 

"In loTC, o[ course," said Princely. 

"Yea, but " replied More. 

"And yon want to tell us," broke In 

"Yes; so " started In More. 

"Can you stand It, Wilson?" asked 

"Certainly!" ejaculated Wllaon. 

"Then go ahead," hreathed Princely, as 
he handed hie [rlend a dgar and, leaning 
back In bis chair, lit one himself, as More 

"A mouse has a small nose, but a large 
sense ol smell; and last June when I vis- 
ited my cousin Id New York, I anticipated 
Just what happened. You aee, among other 
people to whom I was introduced, I met a 
Miss Finch. The manner of a woman be- 
trays her breeding, and, as I followed the 
actions of Hlsa Finch, I knew she waa no 
little conceit. When she sat listening to a 
piano solo, with her hands folded In ber 
lap, she did not have that weary look of 
a glove-counter clerk, who dreams of some 
day In the fnture. When she listened to 
some anecdote, she did not peer Into the 
face of the speaker like a cashier trying to 
detect some forger. When she talked she 
did not rhyme her words like a book-agent 
trying to make a sale. When she sat In the 
observatory conversing with a courtier, she 
did not appear to be engaged in a confidence 
game ensnaring some unwary prodigal. 
When she sat alone, looking at her program, 
it was not like a stenographer trying to de- 
cipher poorly-wrliicn notes. When she " 

"What was she?" broke In Wilson. 

"Wait!" interjected More, continuing: 

"A patient mind will have a clear under- 
standing. Aa the days went by I was con- 
vinced of the truth of my first tmpresalon. 
Her eyes, which were not black, gave me 
much trouble. Like the feast which opens 
the eyes 'v?hen gazed upon, but closes them 
when partaken of, her eyes were to me. 
How little did I then think that her words 
were to be really, as I suspicloned, drugged 
with an Intoxicant more powerful than the 
wines of a variety theatre! 

"It la far more comfortable to be appreci- 
ated than to appreciate— at least, It Is less 
expensive. However, not considering that 
a much-used suit becomes worn, upon mak- 
ing her acquaintance, I often sought her 
company. After leaving her when I had 
conducted her home from the theatre or 
some social gathering, strange to say, my 
mind turned to thinking of ber, and I longed 
to return and be in her presence. My 
senses were always delighted wltb the deli- 
cate perfumes that scented her surround- 
ings; Indeed, she was not vulgar In choos- 
ing cheap colognes and coarse ornaments. 
The soft cushions and elegant furnishings 
of her apartments afforded pleasant ease 
and rest and a soothing languor of content- 
ment lulled one into an exquisite repose 



when he could alt near her and convene 
with her. 

"The character of a person la shown by 
the kind of glfte that are received, and 1 
will never forget the indescribable aston- 
iehment that she exhibited when I ottered 
her at one time a few pounds ot prise cara- 
mels. 'Dexter'a are better,' she murmured 
Is refnslns the gift I acquiesced >iy pocket- 
ing the rejected candy — ot course they were 
better; Dexter's cost a dollar a pound, while 
mine cost me five cents In a elot-machlne. 
But, how should she know anything about 

"So, I bought her Dexter's after that: a 
wise man will follow the suggestions ol a 
superior. My mind was soon made up that 
victory perches upon the brow ot one "who 
Is never surprised. I had certainly made an 

ured In r 

"After eoneultlng my cousin and telling 
him of my plans, he advised that I consult 
a medium. Ot a truth, a mind*reader can 
tell one many things which are stranger 
than the truth. It is a frivolous person who 
will not accept what has been sought and 
paid for by the seeker. Said the soothsayer 
to me: 

" 'A Jewel will be thine, if thou possess 
It; a great treasure awaits thee; thy wisdom 
win profit thee much; all that thou lachest 
ot immortal glory Is that thy talents be 
given the position that they merit; beauty 
shall klSB thee, snd contentment warm her 
feet at thy hearth-stone; an Important hap- 
pening shall to thee soon occur.' 

"I did not deny the words, and In a trance 
ot joy left the place. 

"A wing-clipped chicken cannot fly; so, 
having paid the enchanting medium two 
dollars more than 1 had anticipated, vrhich 
was the last cent which 1 had, 1 walked In- 
stead of riding to the abode ot my fair one. 

"An important step should be taken with 
little deliberation, for opportanlty, like the 
noonday sun, soon passes the zenith. As 
I rushed along, I could not think — my mind 
had for Its consideration only Miss Pinch. 
A person who studies one subject with appli- 
cation does so intelligently. If by comparison. 
I gazed Into the faces of the maids whom 1 
passed, but none were so attractive as the 
face of Miss Finch. I noticed their figures, 
their mode of carriage, their step, their neat- 
ness, tbeir manners, their dress, but none 
were a comparison to the one I was hasten- 
ing to see. 

"Gaze at some object bright and eye no 
other object can descry. At last, I reached 
the place of my destination. Flushed with 
anticipation the heart loaes Its balance 
wheel; and, mind Intoxicated with hope, 
staggers with madness. The maid did not 
respond to my knock as readily as I had 
expected, and when the door did open, 1 
was upon the point ot leaving the premises. 

"It Is useless to apologize for the precon- 
certed mistakes ot a menial. But, seeing 
me at ho unusual an hour, tbe servant with 
as man; excuses as a sea-captain's oaths, 
begged me to enter. I was just opening 
tbe parlor door when she ushered me Into 
the room across the hallway. 

"A valorous lover suspects nothing, and 
fears leas. The surroundings were more 
amusing than awful. In a twinkle Miss 
Finch was at my side. This was but three 
weeks after my introduction, A delusion 
only pleases when it is auccesstul. She 
glanced at my shoes and saw tbe muddy 
tokens of my walk. My finger nails were 
not as clean as they could have been. In 
my haste to see the clairvoyant, I had for- 
gotten my necktie. I had come away from 
my room without a clean noae wipe. My 
face waa red and 1 was perspiring from the 
exercise that I had Just taken. 1 bad not 
yet been seated. 

"A man will dance in tbe utmost ecstacy 
ot delight at a masquerade hall with his 
wife, when he thinks It is tbe hired girl; 
but. the most pleasing time at a masquerade 
Is not when tbe disguise is removed. A 
broken package of tobacco and some clgai^ 
ette papers lay on a small table before ma 
by tbe side of a two-pound box of Dexter's 
Extra Fine Sweetmeats, which I recognized 
as a purchase of mine. No easy rockers 
were in the room. No delicately perfumed 
cushions tickled my nostrils with their 



odon. No essence of lavender nor extract 
of violets could be detected. No beautlfal 
young lady etood betore me. Tbls vae the 
first sight in daylight. 

"The tones of truth, although not so mus- 
ical, are much more pleasing at times than 
the melodies of falsehood. We stood for a 
few moments viewing each other In speech- 
less wonder. The younger the fool, the eas- 
ier the cure. After a second's contempla- 
tion, Miss Finch said: 

"'I was not expecting you;' to which I 

" llnexpected company Is always to be 
looked for.' She remarked: 

"'Ton are Indiscreet;' to which I an- 

" 'The Indiscretions of a young man are 
the Indications of his youth.' 

■' 'I have been foolish to trifle with you," — 


F1 neb's. 

t Miss 

she began to apologize, when I Interrupted 
her by saying: 

" 'A monkey is amused by seeing Its own 

" 'I hope you will not be angry ' she 

again began, when I broke In, 

" "Who Is angered by his own tollies, nev- 
er eats a happy meal.' 

"In the meantime I edged my way impa- 
tiently towards the door. Any ordinary act 
is taken to he done with a motive when the 
observer Is In a condition of super-senaitlve 
affection. MIsb Finch grasped the door- 
knob with both hands and exclaimed excit- 

'"You are not going so soon?' and I to 
quiet her, answered as mildly as possible 
under the circumstances, 

" 'Qreater calamities follow the less, when 
escape is delayed.' 

"The field of experience is the place where 
wisdom finds employment In gathering such 
fiowers to place In the halls of memory 
which when once plucked wither not nor 
fade away. Unseen by me, while I was not 
suspecting It, a heavy substance came In un- 
usual close contact with the top of my head, 
and In an Instant I saw nothing save chaoa 
and black. 

'The memories of one who cannot remem- 
ber are too few to consider. That which 
cannot be remembered cannot be forgotten. 
How long I was Inaensible I do not know, 
but I remember that when I began to re- 
member I was not at Miss Finch's house. 

"A short lane Itae few turninga A week 
after the last time I saw Miss Finch I was 
4ble to sit up; and, upon searching for a 
oasal-cloth, I found In my coat pocket a note. 
A paradox Is a true falsehood, or rather, an 
Instance where truth belles Action. The 
writing seemed to be familiar, yet It was 
strange. The words were " 

"But what has that to do with the love 
affair?" broke In Princely with Impatience. 

"An interruption, Princely," replied More, 
"Is the Instrument which a debater Uses 
when he feels hlmeeit beaten at argument — 
a wise man knows that the longer a fool 
talks the less impression he makes." 

"What were the words Mr. More, on the 
note?" queried Wilson, 

"Curiosity is the Incentive of a laudable 
ambition." continued More. "It is also the 
child of a deficient understanding. The 
words were: 


"The note was written in capital letters 
on a typewriter; there was no date, no punc- 
tuation and no envelope. I do not remem- 
ber whether I received It before or after 
my last visit, the latter part of which I da 
not recollect. I do not know whether It 
means — 'Do not forget' — and signed — 'Miss 
Finch;' or whether it means to warn me — 
not to forget Miss Finch." 

"Well," said Wilson. "That's peculiar." 

"Just a fool lie of yours. More, that's 
what It Is," said Princely. 

"A fool will reply when a wise man would 
not consider it safe to answer," said More, 
concluding. "1 think it means — Do not for- 
get to miss Pinch, and whether E^nch was 
her husband, father or brother I never wait- 
ed nor cared to find out A single beating 
Is enough to spoil a dog's friendship." 

In Bitence the three then arose and togeth- 
er left the room. 


By Jean McLeod. 

Constancy cannot be bought, and it is 
limited to no particular place. It has been 
found shining on the blood-soaked field 
of battle, on the floor of the stock exchange, 
in the log cabin of the trapper and frontiers- 
man, in the corridors of the capitol and in 
the squalid streets of poverty and sin. Like 
mercy, "it is twice bless'd; it blesseth him 
that gives and him that takes." 

Show me a man who never failed his 
friend in the hour of need, and I will show 
you a man to whom the human family 
should be proud to claim relationship. 
There are but few cases of Damon and 
Pythias today, and in spite of the protest 
I am filing, there will be fewer tomorrow. 

The ordinary man in defense of his coun- 
try's honor will gladly, without a moment's 
hesitation, follow her colors to his soldier- 
grave, but that same man may hesitate 
and finally desert his friend whose peace 
is invaded by ridicule or calumny. Loy- 
alty to country is the rule; loyalty to 
friends, the exception. 

Loyalty to country, home, principle or 
friend! It is the sublimest word in the 
vocabularies of men, and loyalty to your 
friend is one of its rarest forms. Not a 
passive, inactive loyalty, but an aggressive, 
stanch championship that thrives on oppo- 
sition. *'With a majority of mankind, friend- 
ship means only a faintly disguised neu- 

You may flaunt your friend's colors in 
the face of opposition when you know he 
is right, and that there is an ultimate 
chance of your having the right to say '*r 
told you so"! But what tries the metal of 
friendship and seldom hears the ring of 
genuineness, is the knowledge that your 
friend is wrong, that every taunt and accu- 
sation is just and deserved; then if you 
face the music and say, "He may be wrong; 
if so, I deplore It, but fight or wrong, he 
is my friend!" you deserve a dress-circle 
seat among the Immortals. How often, find- 
ing ourselves beyond our depth in troubled 
waters, have we turned hopeful, entreating 
eyes toward the shore where, when last we 
gazed, alleged friends waved cheerful greet- 
ing, only to find the dreary, deserted sands 
of disappointment stretching out before us, 
and our late friends making for the upland 
with our clothes. The gilded cheat who 
turns state's evidence should be branded 
an outcast among men, and his betrayed 
companion's sentence lightened because his 
punishment is already great in having 

trusted the coward who failed him. A man 
has more to fear from his supposed friends 
than from his enemies; he generally knows 
who his enemies are. 

This old world is growing better in spots- 
convalescent in some respects at the ex 
pense of an Increased weakness in others. 
We are growing stronger about the head 
and weaker about the heart; we have 
ceased forcing our brother by the thumb- 
screw and the rack to accept what we be- 
lieve to be his only chance of salvation, 
and we have at the same time ceased to 
worry about him entirely; we no longer 
care particularly what he believes or does, 
so long as he does not encroach upon our 
preserve, and we are not exercised about 
whether he gets to heaven or not. We 
are too busy trying to keep up a fifty- 
thousand-dollar appearance on a five-thou- 
sand-dollar salary; too busy entertaining 
acquaintances whose names look well ih 
the society column; too busy gathering 
about us the glitter and tinsel of this world; 
too busy trying to live up to someone else's 
reputation; in short, we are too busy laying 
the foundation tor an early funeral pro- 
cession to spare the time necessary to form 
a strong friendship; or if we do start one, 
it soon withers and dies for lack of nourish- 
ment. Another thing, we use our friend- 
ships too much for them to last long; they 
wear out, like any other commodity when 

It is a glorious privilege to succeed when 
you have a stanch, wholesouled friend who 
will lay his hand on your shoulder and 
say, "Good!" with the intonation and mean- 
ing that only he can give that word. There 
is a recompense in defeat when that same 
hand clasps yours and says, "Cheer up! 
It will all come out in the wash!" or somfl 
like homely expression. Did you ever no 
tlce that when a person feels deeply, if hi 
expresses that emotion otherwise than in 
the most eloqurmt of all languages, silence, 
he does so in simple words? He may seek 
to hide his ignorance or hypocrisy in stud- 
ied, high-sounding phrases and rhetorical 
flourishes, but when his heart beats the 
accompaniment to his voice, he speaks in 
the language of the Bible, of childhood, 
and of Lincoln. Lincoln's grand simplicity 
of style might have been the consummate 
art of the rhetorician, but it was not It 
was the natural, unaffected expression of 
the honest, unartificial mind of a man utter- 
ing what he believed and knew. 


By Lxjb Vebnon. 

My friend Blake and I were seated one 
stormy evening, enjoying a couple of Ha- 
yanas after a good dinner. 

He was a dark, tall, bold and handsome 
fellow, but there was always a look of sad- 
ness in his eye which made me feel that 
some terrible grief had overtaken him, at 
some period in his lifetime. 

But tonight he seemed quite jolly — in fact, 
more jovial than I had ever known him to be 
before — as he regaled me with some of the 
experiences he had met with in his profes- 
sional capacity — that of an artistic photog- 

Under the influence of good cigars, we 
talked away of old times and old scenes — 
scenes which had seemed very commonplace 
as we moved about in them, but which now 
that memory recalled them, seemed to rise 
up with a halo of romance around them. We 
were both bachelors and had been friends 
for many years. 

And so we talked on until we heard the 
town clock as it chimed the hour of twelve. 
We instinctively stopped our conversation 
until the chimes had ceased, and then — I 
don't know why I did it — I said, "Do you be- 
lieve in ghosts, Harry?" 

I expected a flippant reply, but instead, 
my friend's face turned pale, his mouth 
twitched, and that sad look reappeared in 
his eye, telling of some awful sorrow he had 
passed through. 

He mastered himself with an effort. 

"What's the matter, Harry?" I cried, ris- 
ing in some alarm. 

He did not answer me at first, but, look- 
ing at me steadily for a few moments with 
his dark eyes, he seemed to be debating 
some momentous question with himself. At 
last he spoke: 

•'I think I can trust you, Fred, not to di- 
vulge what I am about to tell you, until I 
give you permission, or until I am in my 

I gave him the required assurance, won- 
dering what could have afiTected him to such 
an extent. 

"You ask me," he continued, "if I believe 
in ghosts. I shall probably surprise you 
when I say I do, but after you have heard 
my experience, I think you yourself will 
possibly not be so skeptical on the subject. 
Though I am a bachelor, it is not from 
choice, for (strange as it may seem), five 
year«« ago this night I became engaged to the 

sweetest girl that ever gladdened the heart 
of man. It was shortly after I had attained 
some reputation as a photographer that I 
met her at a dance. How vividly the scene 
rises to my mind. The ball was held in the 
opera house, and was a most sumptuous 

The decorations were beautiful, and the 
place looked like some fairy grotto, or an 
enchanted palace. Music floated from the 
superb orchestra in clouds of sweet melody 
and bewitching harmonies, beautiful girls in 
charming toilets were flitting here and 
there, skimming the floor with fairy-like 
grace. But in all that brilliant scene there 
was no girl to equal Eva Redmond. She 
was a picture, a thing to rave about — and I 
lost my head and heart at the first glance 
from her wonderful eyes. 

"I got an introduction to her, and though 
I had little hopes of prevailing upon her 
to give me more than a couple of dances — 
for all the fellows were pressing around 
her — yet the fates were propitious, and I 
was bold, for one dance led to another, and 
I found at the end of it all that I had waltzed 
with her ten times. The happiest thought of 
all was she had not resented my boldness, 
and I began to hope — loverlike — that she 
had succumbed to me — for you must re- 
member, Fred, that I was a handsome and 
dashing fellow then. Indeed, I must con- 
fess that I owe a great deal of my success 
as a photographer to my good looks. But 
I am wandering from my subject. 

"As you may guess, I took every oppor- 
tunity of seeing her, and before we had 
known each other a year we were engaged. 
I was the happiest man in the world. 

"At last the wedding day was flxed. The 
ceremony was to take place in the spring, 
after the close of the busy season. 

"Before we were married, however, I 
wished to take a photograph of ETva, so that 
in after years I could look upon her face 
as I knew it when I flrst met her. I prom- 
ised her that I would devote my whole en- 
ergy to turn out a picture that would be 
worthy of her beauty and my skill. Eva was 
delighted with the idea, and at the appointed 
time she appeared, wreathed in smiles, and 
with a modest blush on each cheek. I think 
I never saw her look so beautiful as she 
did that afternoon. She was dressed in the 
costume she wore when I flrst met her at 
the ball. Her eyes beamed with excitement 



as she poBed herself for her picture, and, as 
the light was good, I felt confident of ob- 
taining an excellent result. My confidence 
was not misplaced, for on developing the 
plate, the negative came up as sharp and 
crisp as could be desired. I told my divinity 
how successful the sitting had been, and 
promised her that she should see a print 
within three or four days. I knew I could 
not get a proof ready before then, for the 
next day I had to photograph a distinguished 
party of tourists, some miles away, at a 
point of interest, and, in consequence, would 
not be back until the day after. However, 
I promised Eva as I kissed her good-bye, 
that I would send her the proof as soon as 
it was ready. 

Blake stopped here, and I could see he 
was greatly excited. I pressed him to take 
another drink of Scotch, which somewhat 
soothed him. 

"I can hardly tell you, Fred," he went on, 
^'what happened during the next few days. 
I left early the next morning to meet the 
party of tourists, and do the work I had 
promii?ed for them, leaving Eva's negative 
drying, with several others, under the care 
•of my trusted assistants. I did not return 
from my journey until the morning after, 
but I caught an early train and was at my 
studio before my assistants arrived. I let 
myself in, and went into my dark room, de- 
positing my camera and slides preparatory 
to developing the plates. I was thinking of 
Eva and wondering how she had enjoyed 
the horseback ride she had proposed taking 
to her aunt's home some twenty miles away. 
I was still thinking of her, when, happening 
to turn round, there, standing in the door- 
way, was my loved one, in her riding cos- 
tume. I hastened towards her, and then I 
stopped. Good God, Fred! you cannot tell 
how I felt, as I gazed upon her face. In- 
stead of her bright and sunny smile there 
was an ugly gash across her cheek, from 
which blood was dripping. Her face was 
white as snow, and her eyes stared at me 
with death-like persistence. Her clothes 
were all torn and covered with mud. I could 
restrain myself no longer. *E}va,' I cried, *for 
heaven's sake, tell me what has happened. 
Eva! Eva! Sppak!' It seemed as if I 
could not stir from where I stood. I felt 
rooted to the spot, and then she spoke — 
but in tones of one who is dreaming. 'Har- 
ry,' she exclaimed, and no sign of life crossed 
her face, only the drip, drip, of the blood 
from her cheek. 'Harry — is — ^my — picture — 
ready?' *Eva,' I gasped, 'never mind your 
picture. Tell me. darling, what is the mat- 
ter — what has happened?' 

"She spoke again. 'When — will — my — pic- 
ture — be — ready — Harry ?' 

"I was nearly mad, but I had the pres- 
ence of mind to tell her that if she would 
wait a few minutes I would see if any had 
been printed during my absence. I rushed 
to where the negatives were stored, but, in 
my haste, I slipped, and, in trying to save 
myself, I caught hold of one of the trays 
containing the negatives. Down it came, 
and I with it. I heard the crash of broken 
glass, and knew that some, if not all, must 
be broken and irretrievably ruined. I turned 
to tell E^va — she was gone, gone as silently 
as she came. Hardly knowing what I was 
doing, I picked up the envelopes containing 
the negatives. One by one I examined them. 
Only one of them was smashed, the last I 
picked up. I opened the envelope and the 
pieces of broken glass tumbled out. Great 
Heavens! it was Ezra's negative. Had not 
one of my assistants arrived just then I 
think I should have become a raving luna- 
tic. As it was I was stupified, and the 
only thing I can remember is the clock 
striking the hour of eight. I must have 
been in a stupor for some time, for the next 
thing I remember is being roused by my 
assistant and retoucher. 

"Here's a telegram for you," he said, hand- 
ing me that fatal-looking envelope. I seemed 
to have a presentiment of the blow that 
was to fall upon me, and opening that tele- 
gram was like lacerating my heart. I 
glanced at the contents, and the words stood 
out as though written in fire, for they 
burned themselves indelibly into my brain. 

" 'Come at once,' the message ran, 'Eva 
was thrown from her horse last night and 
died this morning at 7:46.' 

"I can't dwell on what followed, Fred, for 
I was a machine only — I had lost the use of 
my senses, and who would not under such an 
awful blow? There is one point, however, 
which you might like to know. ETva died 
the very moment her negative was smashed. 
As it could not have been ETva who entered 
my studio that morning — for my darling at 
that moment was dying — who could it be? 
That it was the image of my sweetheart, 
only altered as I have described, I am pre* 
pared to swear. The words the apparition 
uttered were, I found on inquiry, the very 
words my dear had last spoken in her un- 
conscious sleep. The only explanation pos- 
sible as far as I can see is that the appari- 
tion which appeared to me was simply the 
thought-body of my loved one, which, as she 
lay unconscious, separated itself from her 
physical body and came to me in her form, 
and with power of speech and movement 
to warn me of what had happened.' 


They Fooled Him. 

JOba W&lter, one o( the sturdy pioneers 
of Douglas County, Is noted for hla broad 
smUes and sblny, bald bead. The Btorms of 
life rarely disturb his opttmlsm. But be 
recently met with an eiperleuce, the mere 
mention of which will cause his sunny smile 
to darken and, perchance he may utter a 
word or two that would seem 111 in print. 
Mr. Walter has a hobby; two of them, prop- 
erly speaking, "Turk" and "Doc," a team 
of long since superannuated horses, who, 
from the stiffness ot their Joints, might apt- 
ly be termed hobby horses. 

"Turk" and "Doc" came to the Big Bend 
with Mr. Walters, when Uie country was a 
howling wilderness. Inhabited principally by 
Indiana, coyotes, woodticka and bachelors. 
They drew the plow that turned the Hrat fur- 
row around Mr. Walter's claim. They hauled 
lomher fifty mites with which to build his 
ten by twelve shanty, and, for several years, 
aasisted him to earn bis yearly "grub-stake" 
In the harvest of Uie Palouse and Walla 
Walla regions. When fortune at last smiled 
upoD the hardy pioneer, the good old team 
had earned the warmest spot In his heart. 
They ate the choicest of hay and the green- 
est of grass. Their labor was for recreation 
rather than profit. The warmest c<M-ner of 
the stable was theirs, all forms of equine 
tyranny their prerogatives. In fact, the old 
team held undisputed sway over the person 
of their owner and all of his property. 

Recently Mr. Walter hitched "Turk" and 
"Doc" to hla spick and span cutter, and. m 
company with his friend, C. B. Gifford, start- 
ed to the neighboring village. Sleighing 
waa excellent, the air was crisp and the old 
team, restless from weeks of idleness and 
luxurious feeding, capered along In a man- 
ner almost coltish. Mr. Walter swelled with 
pride in discussing the suppleness of his 
pets, and Mr. Glfford was not entirely un- 

Presently, becoming somewhat chilled, Mr. 
Walter suggested that It would be well to 
"get out and warm up." Accordingly, he 
tied the lines up, and the two friends stepped 

from the sleigh and walked briskly along In 
the rear, leaving the team much to their owa 

"It's pretty careless, leaving that team go 
that way," observed Mr. GifTord, as the pe- 
destrians began to fall behind. 

"No, sir," was the emphatic response. 
"I've owned that team long enough to know 
that they can be trusted." 

"I'd bate to trust any ot my horses that 
way," persisted Mr. Qifford, as the team 
drew still farther ahead. 

"Umph. Well, I break my horses to mind. 
When I tell that team to stop they'll stop 
If they are a mile away." 

Mr. Walter's tone was aggressive. 

"Guess we'll ride awhile," he continued. 
"Whoa!" addressing the team. 

The team kept steadily on. 

"Whoa, 1 tell you," he repeated Impatient- 
ly. The broad grin that overspread bis 
friend's countenance made Mr. Walter 

The team commenced to trot, 

"Whoa, there, you blank dashed old blank 
ot a blank," roared the Infuriated teamster. 

A loud guffaw sounded from Mr. Gilford. 

•'I'll fii you, you blanked old crowbaits," 
threatened the Irate master. Increasing his 

"Turk" and "Doc" declined to be "flied;" 
their speed Increased to a gallop. With a 
very red face, muttering things appropriate 
to the state of hla mind, Mr. Walter raised 
his speed to the top notch. Being swift of 
foot, be gained till he was almost within 
reach of the slelgb. 

"Now stop, will you!" he shouted triumph- 
antly. His calculations were ill-founded. 
With a sudden burst of speed tbe team shot 
abcad, and the pursuer's wild grab at tbe 
rear end of the cutter resulted only In his 
diving head foremost Into a snow drift 
When he extricated himself the team was far 
away, and Mr. Gilford was threatened with 
hysteria. Growling like a grizzly bear, Wal- 
ters dug the snow from his pockets, ears and 
collar. He saw no humor In the situation. 

Meanwhile the trustworthy horses were In- 



dulglng in frolics that would have done credit 
to their days of colthood. They vied with 
each other In kicking the dashboard till it 
lay in splinters along the road. They flung 
their heels skyward, each apparently trying 
to stand on his head while running. A rock 
demolished one runner of the hapless cut- 
ter and complicated matters. The finish- 
ing touches were given as the madly exuber- 
ant team rounded a comer, upsetting what 
remained of the cutter, scattering it piece- 
meal along their path. 

Within a half mile of road Mr. Walter 
found all of his sleigh and most of the har- 

A traveler, seeing the approaching run- 
aways, "shood" and waved his hat at them. 
The horses stopped and sheepishly awaited 
the approach of their master, seeming puz- 
zled at what had happened. When Mr. Wal- 
ter arrived he was panting, his face wore no 
pleasant expression, and he was muttering 
things not in the vernacular; but, mindful 
of the years of hard service the old horses 
had rendered him he forgave them and 
swallowed Mr. Qifford's remarks with forti- 

"Turk" and "Doc" are still favored with 
the beet that the ranch upon which they 
live can afford; but their master says "he 
never yet saw the horse that could be trust- 

The passengers smiled, while the drum- 
mer proceeded to take a silent, dry smoke. 

The Drummer Said No More. 

Coming down from Chelan to the boat 
landing not long ago, among others on the 
stage were a very talkative traveling sales- 
man and a nervous little woman. The mer- 
cantile representative was from San Fran- 
cisco apparently, and, after rattling on from 
one subject to another, i>eculiar to say, be- 
gan to discuss in monologue the morality of 

This made the little woman on the stage 
show extreme irritability. 

However, on and on this air machine 
roared, growing louder and more vehement 
with each sentence, until he wound up with 
the climax. 

"I tell you, I have been in Seattle time 
and time again— on every trip I make — and I 
have failed to find a decent person in it. I 
always get fleeced and go home broke." 

"Well," cut in the little woman, as he 
paused to note the effect of his remark, 
"what you say no doubt is true — " 
Absolutely," he interrupted. 
Then I shbuld Judge that the only place 
you ever get in Seattle is below the dead 
line. My home is m that city, but I never 
saw you." 



Juat Like Others. 

Chris Walters, who owns a farm and nma 
a saloon at Almira, Washington, is a most 
unique character and exceedingly interest- 
ing fellow. He is German— that accounts 
for his good nature. He is well known, being 
one of the pioneers — ^that accounts for his 

One day several harvest hands were in his 
place drinking beer and growing noisy. To 
be rushing business, Chris said: 

"Now, boys, come up and have another 

They all came. 

When the round was over a big, brawny 
fellow walked up to the bar and said: 

"I don't want no more beer; I'll take a ci- 

"Dere you air," said Chris, as he handed 
the box out and the fellow took one, throw- 
ing down a nickel. 

"Dat ees ten tsents," gasped Chris. 

The fellow dropped the weed in a jiffy. 

"Tou tsee," then explained Chris. "I 
kvant tsell you a flve tsent tsigar over de 
bar; but yoost over de vay at Pederson's 
you kin git de tsame tsigar fer a nickel!" 

The fellow went. 

A Peculiar Incident 

Mr. Reilly, the genial and affable steward 
of the Hotel Olympia at the state capital, 
relates many amusing and interesting 
stories which came under his observation 
during the session of the late lamented legis- 
lature. However, the most peculiar and 
strange of all is concerning the senatorial 
aspirants, Ankeny, Preston and Wilson. 

When the seekers for federal honors, more 
especially the senatorial toga, flrst came to 
Olympia to gather together their cohorts, 
place their guards and locate ammunition at 
such points where it would be the most 
available, they each made for headquarters 
at the Olympia Hotel, and arrived on the 
same train. The most energetic of the three, 
however, was Mr. Ankeny, who considered 
the first requisite in his case was to fill up 
his depleted pantry. So, immediately upon 
his arrival, he dove into the dining room 
and was seated by the genial Mr. Reilly, 
where he could observe the entrance and 
gaze out into the lobby to see that his ene- 
mies took no advantage of his absence. In 
a jiffy he gulped down something and was 
out amidst the turmoil of the fray again. 

No sooner had he left the dining room 
than Mr. Preston came along, anxiously and 



vehemently talking with a number of his 
worthy supporters. He seemed to be in a 
great hurry to get something to eat, and in 
the excitement of the moment unconsciously 
and undesignedly he was given a seat by 
the steward in the same chair, not yet cold 
from the presence of Mr. Ankeny, and seated 
there in haste he completed his first meal at 
Olympia, and Jumping up went out to make 
his fight for the senatorship. 

Scarcely had he left the dining room 
when the cunning and astute politician, the 
Hon. ez-Senator Wilson, passed through the 
lobby, explaining to several of his warm 
personal friends how ''if King County 
would stick to one man he could swing 
enough votes, which would defeat the elec- 
tion of Mr. Ankeny." And as they drew to 
a point in the conversation where a conclu- 
sion seemed to be reached and the matter 
settled, Mr. Wilson happened to glance 
through the open door and came to the opin- 
ion that he was hungry, and excusing him- 
self dodged through the entrance. After 
looking blandly around the dining room, he 
was taken in tow by the now designing 
steward and placed in the chair which Mr. 
Preston had Just filled, where he satisfied 
his dyspeptic appetite. 

It seems very strange that the first day 
which these gentlemen spent at Olympia 
should so settle and determine their fate, 
and that, not only should each eat at the 
same table, in the same chair, but that each 
should receive his meat in the order in which 
they received votes in a deciding ballot later 
on; out, as the adage goes, it's the meat 
that makes the man, and the man that gets 
the meat gets the wherewith. 

Was Quite Shocked. 

Bremerton, which achieved some fame 
through the charge of gross wickedness, 
again comes to the front with a religious 
incident. It seems that a prominent East- 
em divine was making a trip to Bremerton 
a short time ago for the purpose of seeing 
the Puget Sound Navy Yard and at the same 
time inspecting one of Uncle Sam's war- 
ships. As he was passing through the town 
of Bremerton, unheralded and unaccompa- 
nied, his religious proclivities being merely 
designated by the stamp of goodness upon 
his countenance, and the beaming light of 
happiness upon his features, he noticed a 
fine church building in the distance. Walk- 

ing up to a fellow who was standing on the 
street comer, he inquired: 

"Can you please tell me what church that 
is up there?" 

The fellow whom he addressed glanced at 
the minister of the gospel in a surprised 
condition, and without any Introductory re- 
marks replied vehemently: 

"Oh, hell! I don't know." 

The Eastern preacher was so stunned by 
the fellow's reply that he did not have 
strength enough to spit, much less to preach 
the fellow a sermon. 

A Hot Retort. 

George M. Ryker, one of Eastern Wash- 
ington's prominent attorneys, sends in the 
following story: 

B B is a prosperous farmer in the 

vicinity of Sprague, Washington, who spends 
the winter months in town. One day early 
this spring he was returning from his farm 
with two very lean horses, which he was 
bringing to town to "feed up" for the "spring 
work." When nearing the city he was met 
by a man driving a span of sleek and firey 

bays. When almost opposite B B 

the stranger suddenly reins in his bays with: 

"Hi, there, friend! Are you going to es- 
tablish a horse factory?" 

"Yes," replied B B -, "Come in 

when you are tired of being a Jackass and I 
will make you over." 

As yet the stranger has not presented 
himself for remodeling. 

Averted Hard Times. 

Great tales are told of the hard times in 
Spokane. It is said that there used to be 
a capitalist at that place who owned a street 
car line and ran a car one way in the morn- 
ing out to a point several miles from the 
center of the city, where he had built and 
was operating a quasi hotel — the principal 
feature of which was a restaurant. The 
same car returned at evening. 

During all the days when the people of 
the West began to hedge and grow econom- 
ical, this car line continued to run and the 
hotel flourished. The prime reason for this 
is presumed to have been the fact that the 
owner of the outfit was constantly adver- 
tising for kitchen mechanics and between 
hauling them out and then feeding them 
success was assured, for none ever ven- 
tured to make a contract. 


My friend, when tbe tide of prosperity 
tnniB with fou, and success begins to dim 
In Its TWld kIoit. do not glre up and, llk« 
a coward, lay down to die. The man who 
can enjoy the flowers ot good times should 
be strong and healthy enough to brave the 
storms ot adversity. The way ot life Is not 
a highway of ease and comfort Of course, 
there are times and places for pleasure 
and enjoyment; but. In tbe main, tbe whole 
affair is a straggle — a fight for— well, a 
fight for the best, the noblest, the greatest, 
the front rank. All this means work. Some- 
times work Is rewarded; at other times It 
is not. So, 

When hard times come to you, as they 
will, do not be a baby and whine, but be 
a man. Throw off the yoke which binds 
you to the stinking corpse of failure, and 
with all the strength nature has given you. 
put on a bold front and go at the enemy of 
life to overcome. Tes, each failure leaves 
a scar. The heart Is wounded each time It 
does not succeed. But tbe good, the lovely, 
the beautiful behold and Judge the man who 
can conquer, and admire the scars he can 
boast, vhlch tell of many battles. 

Ah, so live In prosperity that when bard 
times come they will find your home Im- 
pregnable and will fall upon the grasshop- 
per living next door to you. 

The priceless and most cherished heritage 
of a true American citizen Is the Inalienable, 
constitutional right he has for liberty and 
freedom— liberty ot thought, speech and 
action ; freedom in the peaceable enjoyment 
ot his private property and In the unin- 
terrupted use of bis personal powers and 
possessions, so long as he does not Infringe 
upon the rights of others wblch are co- 
«qual with his own. 

The banding of men together for their 
mutual betterment and advancement Is 
eminently proper In this day of organiza- 
tion and combination, and were the labor- 
ingmen not to associate themselves and bind 
themselves together in unions, as an en- 
tirety, they would soon lose their exis- 

Labor, of all the commodities of trade. 
Is peculiar In this, that Its owner can sell 
it to whom, where and when he plenaes, 
and In a manner as be wills. Hunger, 
want and disease, however, are the masters 
which drive him to w deter him from work. 
Thus, if a person Is hiring himself to an- 
other, without any specific agreement as to 
time, that one mi^ cease to work when he 
wills. Such is his right ' But 

When a workingman leaves the field of 
his labor and severs Ms connection with 
his employer, he has no right whatever 
upon that employer's premises, and can 
claim no privileges of any kind In regard 
to the possessions or private property of 
that employer after tbe wages due him are 
paid; for, then he Is a stranger to the 
employer by his own choosing. 

The moment a servant leaves the house 
of his labor, after resignation, the proprietor 
has the right to hire another and If his 
possession be a public utility, the comforts 
and needs of the people require and demand 
that he proceed at once to fill the vacancy. 
If a number ot workers have banded them- 
selves together and agreed to leave In a 
body, and completely paralyze his business, 
in case ot a public utility, tbe requirement 
falls upon the operator with imperative 
demand that he hire other workmen, and 
do so at once. 

It is true Americanism (trust, or no trust; 
union, or no union) for any living being to 
present himself for sucb vacant position 
and, if he Is accepted. It is his legal and 
moral rigbt to enjoy liberty and freedom In 
the tulflllment of his duties. If he be incom- 
petent, his employer is responsible for his 
mistakes; if he be unfit for the work, his 
employer Is Judge — not those who left the 
field of labor voluntarily and willingly. 

Regardless ot the meritorious, selfish rea- 
sons for a strike, or lockout, the fact Is 
patent that the fellow who takes a Job 
which has been abandoned, or the men who 
desert a factory town where they have 
been locked out of their fields' et work, 
these are manty men. not cowards; they 
are wise and not tools, and In many In- 
stances they have ragged, hungry families 
crying out for the fruits of their toll. Who. 



with a spark of humanity in their hearts, 
would not do as they? 

Scab! Call him scab? Would he were a 
scab, a big, healthy scab to cover a healing 
wound upon the social body of public life. 
But the wound has no scab, for it is ulcerous 
— a vile, running sore, a putrid, infectious, 
gangrenous, abominable, rotten, sloughing 
condition, which is constantly pricked and 
inflamed by agitators and infected and irri- 
tated by unnecessary friction from despica- 
ble creatures who employ. 

A scab! Would there were a scab. 


What excuse has the average weekly 
paper for existing? Many of them are 
poorly printed. Most of them are "thrown 
together" in any hap-hazard manner. Lo- 
cal news and editorial opinions are pub- 
lished by accident rather than design. In 
many homes where they are thrust, of a 
truth, the proverb is verified, "That print- 
shop putteth forth a rag." 

It seems that the average weekly (city 
and country) is operated by some poor 
fellow (nominally a skate) who is too 
trifling and independent to work for others, 
but who is willing to run himself almost 
to a skeleton in an insane but delightful 
effort to work or do others. The most 
popular way appears to be for hini to pub- 
lish a weekly. 

If this sycophant lives in a city, he be- 
gins on the advertisers and finishes them 
up with the tale — "new paper, 10,000 free 
distribution, goes to all the Bohemians in 
the city, they have to take it, free!" This 
tickles the merchant and Mr. Man gets 
five. The principal thin^ — ^the whole thing 
— ^is the advertising patronage. That is all. 
Thus the paper starts. 

In the country it is to boom the town, 
or get the land ofllce business. Mr. Typo, 
with a thirst and hunger, drops into the 
locality. He says, "No paper here? Should 
have one; what'll you give to start one? 
Sell your lots; bring thousands here; the 
press! The press! Finest town I ever saw. 
Certainly support one newspaper." Mr. 
Typo gets a bonus and later opens — the 
only editorial he ever wrote being his intro- 
ductory, parts of which he cribbed from a 
paper a friend of bis once started in Ver- 
mont in the early 30's. 

Now, as we pick up these one-side-printed- 
away-from-home educators, it is a wonder 
there are any subscribers alive to take 
them« All kinds of doped patent medicine 
ads — ^people killers — fill up the reading col- 
umns, and many a strong-minded housewife 
has said, "Bang it!" and then fainted when 

a bright, witty paragraph wound up with: 

"Green pills are a sure cure for Orange- 
men — ^try a box and see." 

There is one country editor in Washing- 
ton who prides himself upon editing, writ- 
ing locals, printing and publishing all in 
one day. Then he wonders at his thin 
subscription list 

Another editor in the same state avers 
that all his editorial and local he "slaps up 
in half an hour," and the blank he sends 
out shows him no liar. 

The average weekly paper as it goes 
today is an echoing farce. It damages the 
town where it is published more than ten 
fires or a red-hot tenderloin. It proves that 
the spirit of enterprise in that locality is 
dead. It advertises to tne world that the 
people in that vicinity are asleep and snor- 
ing. It ia a picture with the weeds of indo- 
lence paramount, and the plant of thrift 
smothered. Such a paper is the thief which 
cometh once a week and steals away the 
seed grain from the granaries of prosperity 
and growth. 


One hen squawked and soon all the hens 
in the barnyard set up a horrible yawping— 
all because they thought something might 
happen and, in fact, considered it as hap- 
pening. So, in many instances among com- 
mercial men of the West, there is too much 
cackling without a cause. This seems all 
right when it brings the greenhorn and 
tenderfoot who pungles up his gold and 
buys, but it is quite another proposition 
when it brings competition and a three-card 
monte dealer who can give the old-timer 
the whole deck and then skin him. Of a 
truth, there is now in the great West too 
many gentlemen and not enough toilers. 
Hot air can raise a cyclone, but it can't 
raise biscuits. Hot air and gall do make a 
gentleman, sometimes a business man, but 
they are only cookey men and don't last 
long. If you are suffering from hot air on 
your lungs, take a dose of the truth and 
get' down to honest bottom before you 


Gambling with cards, dice, wheels and 
other devices, as a sure-thing game, has been 
to all outward appearances stopped in the 
state of Washington, but the way mining 
companies and corporations with "sure- 
thing profits" are springing up is remarka- 
ble. It is folly to warn the public against 
these bare-faced swindles — the more said 
the better they are advertised. However, 
they are "sure-thing" games, where the 



buyer is a gambler, with a dealer who knows 
he will never, never, never get a cent back 
for the money invested to "buy stock." 
The only people who ever "draw out" any 
money are the offl-cers and promoters, and 
when the cash stops coming in the company 
closes its fine, lavishly fitted offices and is 
heard of no more. One company in a West- 
ern state sold ana issued almost 10,000 
shares more than the capital stock. It was 
a "sure-thing" game, and the people wanted 
to invest. They now have prettily printed 
reminders of their get-rich-quick desires. 
My friends, do not beware of these "sure- 
thing" games, but, if you must gamble, start 
one yourself and rope in your friends. It 
will be delightful to gull them, and elevate 
you to the heights of a modern Croesus. A 
"sure-thing" game is a wealth producer for 
the operator. 


The bachelor girl is as selfish as she Is 
independent Of course, she has been Jilted 
in an early love affair, and hates all men. 
One man, her ideal, lied to her and deceived 
her; hence, all men are false and treach- 
erous. How true! She is selfish because 
she is conceited and egotistical. She is con- 
ceited — no man is good enough for her: 
she is egotistical — she can live for herself, 
by herself better than anybody can provide 
for her. Sure! She Is selfish because all 
things must subserve her pleasure and grat- 
ification. Behold her, as she comes down 
the street! Hat is gew-gawed as she herself 
planned it, and sits on her head at a positive 
special angle. Her dress is peculiarly like 
no one else's. Her step is a definite, stamp- 
her-foot-down strut. Once In a while she 
pads for shape. She never tires of saying 
how she hates the mean men. This is how 
she looks In public. In private? Well, she 
is a woman with a woman's heart. She 
weeps then for a lover. She sighs then 
to be a sweetheart. If she was not such a 
coward, she would let that fellow call, and 
when some fellow with a soul full of love 
proposed to marry her, she would be brave 
and say, "I was wrong, after all — the noblest 
act of life Is matrimony, and the grand- 
est feat of a woman's life is motherhood." 


It is very easy for irresponsible, balloon- 
brained, blatant yip-yawpers to howl and 
rage over evil conditions existing in cities 
and communities, and to villainously accuse 
public officials of not doing their duty and 
of even being lawbreakers themselves. By 
their continued assertions they cause an 
upheaval in public sentiment until a grand 

jury is called to investigate. Then, what a 
change! These debilitated and half-insane 
editors and accusers, when they are called 
before the grand Jury to specify man, time 
and deed, shut their mouths like a clam 
and don't know a thing. Of course, there is 
evil; there is wrong; there is need of a 
grand jury and indictments; but grand 
juries will continue to be expensive failures 
and their work pronounced fizzles if evi- 
dence cannot be had upon which to indict 
and witnesses with wfklch to prosecute. 
Grand juries fail, not because they do 
not do their duty, but because the noisy 
hyenas who have them called are all windy 
words without fixed facts — are all hulla- 
baloo without honest action — are all gab 
and the desire to subserve seifish ends, 
without worthy and fair, sufficient and Just 
purposes or ends. 


There is an alarming growth, it is said, 
among some classes of women at the present 
time in the destruction of power for mother- 
hood. This is a most hideous act, and it 
is a deed the commission of which is secret 
between doctor and patient. Not only is 
this true among married women, but candi- 
dates for matrimony, and, in some instances, 
girls have placed themselves upon the oper- 
ating table for this awful purpose. Unless 
such an operation is performed to save life, 
it is a most damnable and heinous crime. 
A woman who schemes to such an end to 
thwart the laws of her life. Is a she-devil 
of Satan's own choosing, more fiendish, de- 
praved and degenerate than the lowest type 
of life in the evil angel's realms; and the 
doctor who would make possible and carry 
out such a woman's design, is far worse 
and rather to be condemned for his vile, 
base, inhuman and ungodly practice. Such 
a fellow is no physician — he is a monster, 
grim and bloody, destroying his own kind. 
He is worse than a murderer. He is a 
mercenary wretch, a contemptible cur, a 
fiend too black for the night of death, a 
being whose just punishment would rank 
greater than that of the arch fiend himself. 


When a person is about to congratulate 
himself that he is as good as the average 
run of people and that he is much superior 
to another fellow who holds his head high 
and don't see the end of the street where 
the walk stops, the time has arrived for that 
individual to take stock and see if the bal- 
ance in his mind corresponds to the balance 
in the books and if the amount on the books 
tallies with the amount on the inventory- 




That The Coast is widening its circle of 
readers and accorded a liberal reception in 
the matter of circulation, the following fig- 
ures show: 

1901 (11 months), total copies print- 
ed and send out 18,600 

1902, total copies printed and sent 

out 43,950 

1903 (first four months without any 
work at all on circulation), total 

copies printed and sent out 18,600 

1901, monthly average 1,691 

1902» monthly average 3,662^ 

1903, monthly average (4 months).. 4,650 
The Coast Is the popular magazine of the 

Northwest. It has become so by saying what 
it thinks, and, as it thinks, thinking for it- 
self. It is independent, virile and awake. It 
makes a special feature of publishing West- 
em literature. Western history and articles 
of Western places and people. For every 
subscriber The Coast has lost by "being 
plain" and "outspoken," as well as "inde- 
pendent," it has gained ten. 

This magazine should be on the table of 
every family in the Northwest, and, after it 
is read, sent to Eastern relatives and friends. 

The C^ast starts people to thinking. The 
Coast starts people to doing something. 

The C^ast is a wonderful exciter. 

Subscribe for The C^ast and see. 


A discouraged editor, in a fit of despera- 
tion, dashed off the following: 

The wind bloweth, the water fioweth, the 
farmer soweth, the subscriber oweth, and the 
Lord knoweth that we are in need of our 
dues. So come a-runnin', ere we go gun- 
nin'! This thing of dunnin' gives us the 
blues. — ^Ez. 

It is not funny when you're out of money, 
with nothing to buy grub or booze; pray 
don't get witty, but give us your pity, and 
enough to buy clothing and shoes. — ^Us. 

And now comes the poet, who claims 
that none know it, but he's able to go it 
for a week or two more; if those who have 
said it will pay who doth edit, so he can 
get credit to replenish his store. 


In this issue of The C^ast we print 
an alphabetically arranged index of Vol- 
umes Four and Five of The Coast. This is 
done at the urgent request of many who 
have been desirous of binding the copies 
they have received. By looking over the 
titles one will see that in a volume's num- 
bers quite a varied field of literature, his- 
tory and discussion is covered. The editor 

of The Coast has a limited number of 
complete files of Volumes Four and Five, 
which he will send prepaid to those in the 
United States or Canada remitting fifty 
cents for a volume. The older The Coast 
magazine becomes, the more valuable will 
these early volumes be. Volumes will not 
be broken — they must be purchased entire. 
Remit by one or two-cent stamps, money 
order, or draft. Address Honor L. Wilhelm, 
Editor The Coast, Seattle, TJ. S. A. 


The Utah State Journal prints the follow- 
ing as an example of its esteem of good wit: 

Here is the best Joke of the season, sprung 
by a Mississippi congressman: 

"Why didn't the ground hog stay out of 
his hole on ground-hog day?" 

"Dunno; why didn't he?" 

"Because he was afraid if he stayed out 
Roosevelt would put a coon in his place.' 



The following is clipped from a paper, 
which stole it from some other paper, the 
name of which we know not, nor care: 

"President Roosevelt was telling a friend 
about his mail, which averages 500 or 600 
letters a day. 'One of the most remarkable 
letters I ever received,' he said, 'arrived 
on the morning the first full accounts of the 
Martinique disaster were printed in the 
newspapers. The writer said he saw that 
the American consul at Martinique had 
been burned to death. He applied for the 
place, and wound up with this sentence: 
'I make this early application so as to get 
in ahead of those loathsome creatures, the 
ofllce seekers.' " 


The poor benighted Hindoo, 

He does the best he kindo ; 

He sticks to his caste from flnrt to last. 

And for clothes he makes his skindo. 

— The Pullman Erergreen. 

The above sounds like the Slwash, 
Who went to get an eye-wash ; 
Who broke the law and beat his squaw, 
Because they sold him rye-wash. 

A rogue met a pretty young Mrs.. 
A widow, and stole a few Krs. ; 

And the lady, tho' greatly astounded. 
Said she'd waive prosecution. 
If he*d make restitution. 

So the felony soon was compounded. — Stolen. 

No doubt the rogue was a Mr.. 
Who met the young widow, and Kr. ; 

This much we profess ; 
But then, if the fellow had Mr. 
The next rogue she'd have kissed to a Blr., 

We give as our guess. 

Her throne Lb the universe, tbe mild sweet 
Maj'tlme queen, her erowu 19 wreathed Iq 
GBrlaiida fait, her robe Is nature's green: 
Her cDUDtless Bubjeeta love her rule, tbe 
Birds burst forth la prnlBe. the I'bperfiil 

Thlfr fair jouns ruler gives us hope, our 

Wearr hearts Bbe cheers, when frum tbe 

Cold and darkered gloom of winter ibe appears ; 

Her (alrjf scepler held aloft brings forth 

The leaves LDd llowers. that grow and hloom 

For sheer delight, beaeatb the Majtlme showers. 

Her r 

r fair y 

all ndleL. __. 

Lays tbe scepter down all nature blooms anew : 
Our love for her la atroDg and deep, would 
That ehe'd longer star ; but then our love 
Shall come again— our own dear queen of May, 
8«drD- Wool ley. Washington. 

Tbia department gives the subscribers an oppor- 
tunity to get acquainted with one another's 
thoughts. Talk about It. Write about It. Criti- 
cize It. Make It the big show of each month. It 
la open to every subscriber. 

The following questions and anawera have been 
mbera for discuBBlon bj 
this department. 

direct and not to ei 

aundred words. Address communications t< 
Editor tbe Coast Library and Art Clc' 
Tbe Coast, Seattle, Wash 

I. hlB ball and k 

The (arn.. 
His wlfi 

While the 
Begins 1 

rjBuy B 
p (or gn 

a wildly aay 

auISce to say that ibe editor was taken suddenly 
very 111. had a severe surgical operation performed. 

now again hack at the Kteerlng pear. This shows 

no Literary Art Club. Tm: Cua'et lias gained 
Buch a momenlnm that It goes on uoIwlthslandlnK. 
Now. that health has been restored to the edl 
tor and the opportunity Is ripe for material and 
large advancement in the usefulness and Influence 
of this magazine (especially this department, by 

up a club and widen the circle of lis readers. 

The editor la glad to be at Ms desk once agalti. 
He is happy to be able to address you. lie hojies 

to read, laugh, enjoy themselves, think, and above 
all. do something. 

In this n-ork tbe editor, to be eminentir success- 
lul, requires and needp the help and assistance 
of each reader of The Chart and as many new 
ceaders as ran be Interested. To those faithful 
workers who have courageously stood behind the 
editor In the past with their deeds of encourage- 
ment and word!) of cheer, (he occupation of tlie 

Query No. 4. What should cc 
literary production? 

Ads. Ad extended writing that correctly ei- 
presseB In an artistic way the best thought of 

la felt to be understood by all IntelllgeDt people. — 
Thos. W. Musgrove. 

Query No, lU. Is dialect writing a perversion 
or a reverBlon of literary merit 7 Are there any 
elasaki,' written In dialect? 

Ans. Dialect writing la simply a grotesque 
dress of any writing. A classic may be written 
In dialect, but It eeems iDCODgrnons to good taste. 
Just as a perfect lady dreeses In grotesque coeiume 
for an occasion: but If she wore it all the time. 

of*n"real c^iwics^ln'dlalect,— Thoa^W.^Musgro™, 

of his work i 

I Is appreciated, 
and Is appreciated because tbe character and merit 

_. ..._ ._ attention, pleases tbe eye 

naies me mind, which gains for bis cre- 
cognltion and makes his name famous 

Query 21. — Are there any great writers of tbe 
present day and what Is the criterion by which 
4hey are adjudged? 

Ana. Measuring from the flnnnclal point at 
view, there are several — yes many great writers 
of the present day, which moneyed publishers, 
liberal advertising, an easy public, and patent 
leather gall have made famous and. for the time. 
great. .Judging from amount and number of vol- 
umes and stories written, tbe titles of wblcb al- 
ways follow tbe name, there Is a squad of prolific 
authors who spread tiielr wares In syndicate Btnit 
through a hoat of rags purporting to be evangels 
of education, culture and reBnemenl. who are 
wonderful in their cheapnesH and variety, and. 
while the Btlpend they draw continues, they aeem 
to be great. Note, a few. who write after they 
think : who think after they study, and who study 
because purpose directs them, a few exist today 
In the fleldh' of literature, who, when they write, 
are read ; who. when they are read, men's hearts 
are fired lo think, to live and to do, tor and among 




those around them. They are noyelists, essayists 
and editors, and they are great writers. The only 
criterion by which to judge if a wrUer be great. 
Is to look at the kind of a face which seeks the 
product of hisr pen, and obsenre what <diaracter 
of a life the owner of that face lives. 

Query 22. — Is it true that many of the great 
writers in literature were users of alcoholic 

Ans. Yes, it is ; but not all the great writers 
were so. Prevailing habits and customs in 'times 
gone by, made it easy to be so. Then, when they 
were young and poor, struggling for recognition, they 
lived in rooms and ate In coffee (?) houses (usu- 
ally adjuncts to liquor stores), and that made it 
easier. But, the largest reason was that when 
fame locked arms with them he led to suppers, 
balls, feasts, revelries and a fawning multitude 
(each person of which with a little pint), no 
doubt drowned out and swept into the sea of ob- 
livion many a glowing gem of thought or spark- 
ling jewel of expression. However, all great 
writers were not users of alcoholic liquors, and, 
if users, the greatest ones were far from drunkards. 
— L. C. B., Seattle. 

Query 23. — What is the difference between nov- 
els and works of fiction ? 

Ans. — A novel is an imaginary tale of recent 
times and is a work of fiction, while works of fic- 
tion include all - stories, tales, narratives, fables 
and writings which are untrue. 

Query 24. — Is the morning or the evening the 
best time In which to write? 

Ans. For some, after a good night's rest with 
the mind clear and active, the morning hours, be- 
fore eiitraneous matters come up to divide the 
thought and attention, prove most advantageous 
for writing. For others, after a day of thrilling 
excitement, with the nerves tingling, the mind 
humming and the being at high tension, the eve- 
ning with its quiet, restful, calm is the best time 
to write. However, the time of writing is merely 
a matter of education and habit The great 
thing is to have something to write and, if it 
is worth writing, it will force itself out, aye, 
will bum its way on the paper. 

Querv 26. — Should a popular writer be consid- 
ered a literary genius ? 

Ans. By no means should the popularity of a 
writer be made the measure of his genius. Many 
of the greatest writers had to die to make their 
writings popular. The works of a' literery genius 
do be^me popular, but all popular writers are 
not literary geniuses. 

Query 27. What are the best wajrs by which 
a person can gain popular favor as an author? 

Ans. There are no best ways that apply to 
everylMMly. ESach author must fit a way to his 
or her own mentality, just as he or she fits a 
dress to the body. The dress that is "perfectly 
lovely" on one lady is '^horribly ugly" on another. 
So with literary style. What would Chkrlotte 
Bronte do, if she attempted George Eliot's style 
and subjects? — Thos. W. Musgrove, Mission, Wash. 

Query 28. — ^Must a person be a good speller to 
beeome a great writer? 

Ans. We think not; but rhetoric and grammar 
are essential. Editors, type setters and proof- 
readers are presumed to always correct a writer's 
orthography, often his punctuation, sometimes his 
grammar, seldom his rhetoric — it is their duty. 

Query 29. — Is It necessarr for a person to read 
a great deal to be a perfect writer? 

Ans. It all depends upon the character of the 
person's writings. If history, yes. If letter writ- 
ing, no. But then, perfection in writing may 
mean so many things, that a direct answer cannot 
be given. 

Query 80. Is style in writing a matter of edu- 
cation or cultivation? 

Ans. Style Is the manner, or way, in which a 
writer expresses his thoughts. Some styles are 
the mawkish aping after that of preceding suc- 
cessful men and are, as it were, an educated, or 
taught, mannerism. Such is tedious and tire- 

some; it is stilted and stiff. It is like a silly 
flunkey aping royalty. Then, there is the free, 
easy, natural style, rough and uncouth at first, 
but with nurturing care by training and cultiva- 
tion, it is polished into a beautiful and attractive 
method of expression. I should answer this 
question briefly — Style In writing is a matter of 


Query 31. What is poetry? 

Query 32. Should historical writings be classed 
as literary productions? 

Query 33. Has the United States a poet laure- 

Query 34. Who made the most famous piece 
of statuary in the Uinted States? 

Query 35. Are rebuses and riddles literary pro- 

Query 36. Is the making of puns a form of 
classical writing ? 

Query 37. — Is there a set rule by which a person 
can write wit and humor and become famous? 

Query 38. — Which would you advise a person 
to enter to become famous — painting or sculpture? 

Query 39. — Is logic the proper thing for a per- 
son to study if he intends to make a living by 
writing funny paragraphs for the comic papers? 

Query 40. — Is it proper to say, "Have got" or 
"Have gotten?" 


Capt. Fred A. Tew, Olympla; W. R. Morgan, 
Seattle; Wilmon Tucker, Seattle; Alfred Battle, 
Seattle ; Agnes Deans Cameron, Victoria, B. C. ; 
M. D. Bowers, Philadelphia, Pa. ; Margaret Dice, 
Willock, Pa. ; B. E. Gates, Seattle ; Andrew Bun- 
son, Seattle; Geo. B. Kittinger, Seattle; J. M. 
Frink, Seattle; A. A. Seagrave, Seattle, F. B. 
Morgan, Seattle; Mrs. HolTings, Seattle; Jiames 
Wehn, Seattle; Leo. L. Schmidt, Douglas City, 
Wash. ; J. S. Evans, Stanwood, Wash. ; Geo. B. 
Lovelace, Shelton, Wash. ; Dr. D. M. Stone, Black 
Diamond, Wash. ; Walter R. Morgans, Black Dia- 
mond, Wash. ; Edwin Berquest, Seattle ; Thos. W. 
Musgrove, Mission. Wash. ; O. P. Hanson, Con- 
way, Wash.; G. D. Horton, Snohomish, Wash.; 
A. T. McCarty, Melrose, Idaho; Bessie Woodward, 
Everett, Wash.; E. M. Corrlgan, Seattle; C. C. 
Stewart, Ephrata, Wash. ; G. L. Richardson, Che- 
lan, Wash. ; Frank D. Johnson, Mettapoisett, 
Mass. : G. Edenholm, Seattle ; Miss A. E. Wares, 
Seattle; Z. C. Miles, Seattle. 


The new heading for this month is the drawing 
of Edwin Berquest. of Seattle. 

James Wehn, of Seattle, is the name which 
should have been as that of the artist who made 
the drawing of the first building on Lake Wash- 
ington, which appeared in the March number. 

An invaluable addition to sociological lore is 
John Graham Brooks' **The Social Unrest'* In- 
stead of immersing himself in statistics and oflicial 
reports he has gone out among the people and 
studied the subject at first band. The result is 
a book that should be known to every person in- 
terested in the welfare of our fellow men. (The 
Macmlllan Co., New York.) 

"When Patty Went to College" is a chamning 
chronicle of the pranks of a lot of college girls. 
It is all so pleasantly told and so frankly youth- 
ful, and the girls are such a playful bunch that 
the lack of Incident Is not regretted. (The Cen- 
tury Co., New York.) 

"Horace Greely" is the engaging subject of 
another addition of Appleton's series of "Historic 
Lives." What renders the book peculiarly attrac- 
tive is its candor. The author, Mr. W. A. Linn, ex- 
tenuates nothing, and presents the rather unlovely 
facts about Greeley's hoBftlllty, to Lincoln and his 
(Greeley's) attitude toward secession. (D. Apple- 
ton & Co., New York.) 

bPlDg "The DewD. It IB rarely IbBC uoe Dnda 
la conlemporary letter-B so dalDty and fnrraful an 
example of tlie slorj-leller'B art. Mr, Arthur C'oss- 
let Rmltli. the author, baa appareully aludled 
deeply Ihe best models of france — for the quick 
sparkle and dfLionalr grin'e of th»«e ial«s la eaaen- 
tlally Frencb. The e»i-eHent old prleat la "The 
Turqiiolae Cup :" (be (aBclniitiiiB l.ady Sorah. who 
IH IrUb and nlnetcrn : the Engllnhman who so 
readily committed b c.-lmc In tbe name of Love— 
theae are all engaging people who amuse ui greally 
by their witty convemtlon. "The Desert" is 
somewhat more sombre, and the eeBentlal parts of 
It hdve been wrlttea before In the Bible aod 
Rhakeapeare; but It, too. Is full of the iDdeflnable 
charm which Ihe artist— whether be deals ia 
words, colors or tones — always flings about the 
creatloDB of his fancv. ICbas. SorlbDer's Sons, 
publishers: piice, (1.35.) 

It Is (llOlcult to define the Inipi'esBlaD made by 
reading this singular tale, tbe work of a Dew 
writer, one F.iIdb Kenton. It Is ratber an unpleas- 
ant Impression, tbouRh one has to recognize the 
fact that llie work Is well done. Tbe (treat palmer 
who wedded a beautiful rountry maideo for the 
sole pnrpos'e of bRilDg her puse "Id the altogether" 
for a contemplated palatlDg, take* rsDk wliti Nero 

aa b humon mnnnlBr BDd pSrSSCUtOr of the inDO- 

oubted It Bucb tragedies ever 
-- '■- hoped that they 
ell told, and the 
> la effeetlTe. (Bobbs-.Uerrlll 
:o„ publlahera. Indianapolis; price, fl,50.) 
■THE riT." 
s gratifying to see 

t. It ia t_ _ _ 

iir. aDd surely I 
not frequent. The story 

■■The Pif 



■. *1.50. 


the American | 
the principals 

<'hew residence is In a state of siege, and tlM M- 
lempcs of s British spy to wreck the fortniua of 
<ieneral Washington, who Is oDiy a few miles OK, 
make exciting rending. The volume Is given an 
appropriate patriotic dress. (Lothrop Publisblnc 
<'ompany. ItostoD : bound Id brawn clotb. rotigb 
edges; price. $1.50.) 


The ('Hlifornla ITomotlon Committee has isaDoiI 

n superb hnudbook of the Cslirorals metropoita 

enililed. "San Pranclaco and Theresbout.^' Tb» 

lllitMrallons are especially fine. The book Is «■ 

: description of the many advaalai ~ ~ 

1 Promotion Con- 

H'raaclsco: cloth. SO cents.) 


iwin™r a 
oclBl place. 

and unuaual s 

all (juartera of the Cnlted Stales. The 
story Is the ahleat work of the 
writer of this gem 

In '%e Octopus" he msde a dIstTuct advance, and 
Id "The fit'' the defects of his previous work 
are almost wholly eliminated. Certainly the the- 
ater of Ibia s-tlrrlng Action hss never been so 
splendidly portraved : The great grain mart, Chi- 
cago; the terrific eicltemenl of tbe pit: the ornate 
rivllizatlon ; (he opulent scale of living among 
the aurcessful sijeculatorn — tbeac aspecta of Ameri- 
can life are here presented In a masterly way, 
Jodwin, the manipulator of the wheat "corner." 
la a distinct cresUun. Tbe other charscters are 
equally well done, ihougb tbey do not, perbapB. 
make so strong an Impresalnn. On the whole, the 
book Is a nolahle one. and It la worthy of the 
Doiibledsy, Page & Co.. 

i the fashionable 

woman whose only ambition is to gal 
and who wrecks lives', wbulber of m 
to gain that puriioae. In pleasing contrast ■■ ber 
sister Edith. Bweet. chhrmlDg, and full of good 
works. Tbe death of the Cockatrice at her hands 
furnishes the di-amstlc crlsla of the tale, whicb 
fognlied as a novel of great brllUancr 
Higth of plot, |!..othrop Publish- 
ing >-oni|miiy. ilosloD : 12 mo. : bound In bin* 
cloth, decorative cover, rough edges; price. fl.lSO.) 
"Eilts and Entrances" Is a volume of essays of 

e Klngsley, (Jeorge Bllof. Steven- 
ind Mark Twain: writen proas 
s fhsclnsllug SB Heine's "Relae- 
nces In Ibe form of 


and sketch PS full <^ 
harm, and la enriched by a frontispiece pictnre 
if Mr, Stoddard, reproduced from a painting kdA 
lere for the first time printed. (Lothrop PuUlmb- 
ng Comnany. Boston; 8-vo : bound In dark green 
loth, gilt top, rough edges : trontispltce portrait 
if author: price, »1.20 net.) 

The scene of Ur, Wm. Henry Babcodt'B new- 
lovrl Is laid In the Chesapeake Bay, and several 
if Ihe chief chhiacters are descendanls of the Wil- 
lam Claiborne who figures In his former boc*. 
lUt the time la that of the Civil war. There la a 
urious iiBvchnloglcal problem of Inherited memorr 

I Henry 



ew novel of <:enersl Cbas. King Is a dli- 
t, j[pg fictions, excellent 

nggle sre represented, 
the British red-coats; 
s developed. In which 
orn American beauty 

though ma 

ny of them were. The scene la the 

Cnper Plat 

with the boat lies— these elements in- 

sure a llv 

Iv narrative, and lb this Instance the 

lltsry novelist gives full meaaure of 

chrnage an 
peel ally fln 

and e'w. 

Demlng. IThe Hobart Co.. pnbllsbera. 

price, Jl.BO.) 



ThlH Ib a thrlinng story o( Bome verr Interentlng 
pbhseB of Ruaalaii lite by Henry Illowlzl. wbo 
koowB hla subject thoroughly. bSTing heen bom 
and pused bis early years In the Russlsn proTlnce 

lug iQteren and ol much aoclologlcal Talus. 
IHenry T. Coatea & Co., publishers; price, (1.00.) 
This volume conlalna the atory of "Ole Mlatis." 
sblcb has Bltalped a wide celebrity from Ita uae 
b; prufeaaloDBl readerG- and reciters, and wblch 
flnt brought t 

Mlas Kitty's 
1 Mr. Moore' 

notice : 

wltb ' 



ray Gamma/' 
1 tiutnlJer of others 
1 of mingled pathoa 
e Dot ably eicel- 
■"■'-■-—; price. 

CoanrDlng (be p«r«onalll)' of il\ft Louise Betta 
Edwards, the author of "The Tu-Tie'a Tower," 
•hDnly to be published by lienry T. Coatea aud 
t-'ompany. ot lihlladelphla. Ii may briefly be said, 
Bince It would never h? known from ber book, 
thai she Is' ■ Pbilndelphl&n. a Quaker by loug 
deaceot, an ei-klndergariDer. a present newspaper 
woman, and has had eif " ' '" ■■-'■— '■ — ■ 

half." "ni 
wblcb Is I 
and almplt 

llliatlon. 'i 

_ of this h 
tale of ram. 
with a DOT 

> heroine who 


with '■ 


. Into her book, 
1 adventure pure 
V deparlur 

aboriginal I'blna. There la not In the book a his- 
torical ehararler. an etbleol problem, a married 
person or anjr purpose, save (bat of being Inter- 

-The nilgree Ball," bv Mrs. Anna Katberlne 
nreen. author of 'The Leavenworth rase." Is mak- 
ing a Btlr In the book publishing world. Though 

I'ew Yoi 

, plac 

alphas been 

Co.. publisher 

The l.ast . 

aanoDnred by Little. Bi 

It Ib a d< 
— niled. In fact, 

of the s 


Bsed Witt „_ 

'The Gold Bug." (Bobbs-.'VIe 

.. _jdlana polls.) 

D«r» of^Pe_kln,;' _by PJerre I.otI, Is 

the Figaro. 

fbe SQbject Is Jost auUed to I.otl'i 

IBd tbe book Is "Immensely rich In strange effe 
I taiclnating commlngllag ot the beaulKul. 



Lodi TiuRi AU 

THCH^OUGH ^T *."""? K'^\ 

g-^"^. : COMPLETE 

The ACME is the pUee to go. It 
' ~^" {guarantees poihioni ~r" ■' s 

McLaren & Thompson 

Seattle, W»h. PfindfAfa 



Scattlc'i Lcadtnj Drestmaktnj 

and Tailoring Establiihmcnt 

Our Out-of-Town Patrons 

are Host Courteouslr Cared 

Telephone Browa 1471 



Scientlflc Syitem for 


BUST and 


Incliidoa tbe uaa of 
Electricity, Mechan- 
ical -Maasage. Inier- 

[ vailed. harmleaa, 

fleasBQt and eRect 
'<!. Self applied. 
Uoney cheerfnllj r«- 
fuDded where Imme- 
diate reaulta are not 
obtained. Partlcn- 
lars In plain sealed 
enrelope- Dipt. a. 

_W., P. C _. 
S8>, Seattle. Waah. 



weird and the horrible. The translation is by 
Myrta L. Jones. (Little, Brown & Co.. publlsh- 
««» Boston ; price, $1.50.) 

_ Hidden Manna," a romance of Morocco, by A. 
J. Dawson, iff one of the noteworthy books of the 
season. The story Is crowded with brilliant scenes 
of Morocco life ; It is of a high technical quality ; 
full of stirring incidents, wild adventures on the 
open road," Intrigues, combats, forays, alarms. 
It is a page out of the Middle Ageff. The book is 
well worth reading twice, once for the story and 
a^in for the extraordinary wealth of local color, 
which often overflows into foot-notes. This is 
the "real thing," by one who knows Morocco. 
(A. 8. Barnes & Co., publishers.) 

A new novel of San Francisco, by Chatlea War- 
ren Stoddard, is announced by the publisher, A. 
M. Robertson, of San Francisco. The book is en- 
titled "For the Sake of His Company; a Tale of 
the Misty City." Stoddard is a fascinating writer, 
and the new fiction will be given a warm wel- 

Mrs. Higginson's "Marietta of Out West" is 
winning encomiums on every hand from th^ most 
severe book reviewers of the country. **The Dial," 
of Chicago, which never indulges in fulsome flat- 
tery or mere perfunctory adulation, pronounces 
the story "a strong work of well-sustained inter- 
est • • • distinctly out of the common." (The 
Macmillan Co., publishers, New York.) 

"The Story of the Trapper" is a unique and fas- 
cinating record of a phase of pioneer life now 
almost passed away. The author. Miss A. C. Laut, 
has turned over to the public the abundant riches 
of a well-filled portfolio of border sketches. A 
deeply interestins book. (D. Appleton & Co., pub- 
lishers New YorK. ) 

"The Spoilsmen," by Elliott Fowler, is a' very 
successful book. Already the second edition has 
been exhausted by advance orders prior to publi- 
cation. It is a story of Chicago municipal pol- 
itics, and taken from real life. It is creating 
a large stir and is a book as well worth reading 
as it is interesting. (L. C. Page & Co., Boston.) 

"The Lieutenant-Governor" by Guy Wetmore 

Carryi (Houghton, Mifflin & Co., |1.50) is a novel 
which haiB for its basis the present-day labor 
troubles, for its scene of action the coal regions 
during a strike period which required the presence 
of the militia, and for its hero the Lieutenant- 
Governor, an impulsive American, who, upon the 
assassination of the Governor of the imaginary 
state of Alleghenia, assumes control of the State 
and by his. force and wisdom restores order with- 
out bloodshed. The Lieutenant-Governor's engage- 
ment to a young girl during these troublous times 
adds much to the complication of the situation. 

"The Legatee" is the first novel by Mrs. Alice 
Prescott Smith. Although of New England ances- 
rty, Mrs. Smith was bom at St. Paul, Minn., 
in 1868. When she was eleven years old, her 
father, a Congregational clergyman, went as mis- 
sionary to a lumber village in the northeastern 
peninsula' of Wisconsin. The hero of *'The L^- 
tee," a Southerner, inherits a lumber mill in a 
Wisconsin town, and with it the legacy of his 
uncle's relations to the townspeople, which were 
not always friendly. The novel is marked through- 
out with much Intensity of feeling, excellent dia- 
logue, great rapidity of narration, and a wealth 
of incident. It is entirely modem, and its air 
of sincerity is a relief from a great deal of the 
fiction of the last few years. The book has pow- 
er that augurs well for its success. (Houghton, 
Mifnin & Co., Boston.) 

Gertrade Atherton's "A Few of Hamilton's Let- 
ters" includes, besides a Judicious selection from 
the voluminous correspondence of that states- 
man, a copy of the letter describing a West 
Indian hurricane which led directly to his coming 
to America'. (The Macmillan Co., New York; 
price, 11.50.) 

In "Lees and Leaven," Mr. Edward W. Town- 
send describes the conditions surrounding the 
workers on a New York yellow newspaper. The 
picture is not a pleasant one, but the story is 
nevertheless eminently readable. (McClore, Phil- 
lips & Co., New York; price, 11.50.) 

Appleton's series of 'historical Lives" is begun 


0»*Mt1kktA HH>tMilt 

Owns 4,000 acres of land in and ad- 
joining Olympia, the same lying in 
Sections shown on this map. It 
also controls 10 miles of frmitage 
on deep water on this matchlesi 
liarbor. Such harbor conditions as 
exist about Olympia, as shown by 
this map, cannot be found anywhare 
else on American soil. Railroad de- 
velopment now planned will center 
immense traffic in this harbor. These 
4,000 acres of land are devoted to 
the building of greater Olympia. 

free Sites and Cash 

for solid industries Is the plan, 
interested, communicate with 





In answering Advertisements please mention The Coast. 

with a scholarly yolame by Reuben O. Thwaltes. 
The subject is '^Father Marquette," and the ma- 
terial has been largely drawn from the rich store- 
house of the Jesuit "Relations." The llluGrtra- 
tlons are of unusual Interest. (D. Appleton ft 
Co., New York; price, 11.00.) 

*rrhe Captain" Is a thinly veiled portrayal of 
General Grant The picture Is fairly accurate and 
presents the hero In a complimentary guise. An 
attractive story. Churchill wllUiUns Is the author. 
(Liothrop Pub. Co., Boston.) 

Are You Sending East 
for any of your friends during the present 
reduced rates in elfect via the Northern Pa- 
cific? Tou can deposit the money with any 
N. P. Agent, who will arrange by telegraph 
for delivery of ticket in the east free of 
charge. For all particulars as to rates and 
oar unexcelled accommodations, call on or 
write to any N. P. Agent I. A. Nadeau, 
Qenl. Agent, Seattle. 

European plan; First Clasi. All Daylight 
Rooms. Popular Batss. 

^MA Branswick*^ 

Business Center. 
— One Block from Union Depot. — 

J. J. Cunningham, Prop. 8BATTLB, U. 8. A 


B. N. TUN IN, Proprietor 

Headquarters for Commercial Men 
Fine Sample Rooms 

Olympian Washinsfton 


Athlon. Inland Flyen 

Only passenger ateamshlp liiM to 
the Pnget Sound Naval Station. 


TRY V I R I 1.18 

a perfect tonic for the 
blood. A trial box contain- 
ing one week's treatment 
sent prepaid for fifty cents. 

KifiMl Bros., Druggists, Sssttls, Wash 


—THE — 



Men's Cashmere Tailorings, 

Ladles' Dress Goods. 

Flannels for Children's aothlnc. 

Flannels for Underdothlnc. 

Domestic Blankets. 

Miners' Blankets. 

Mackinaw Clothing. 

Baseball and Gymnasium Suits. 



St Paul 


St. Louis, 


Detroit, and 

Other Eastern Points, 

Buy Direct and Save Money 



1117 First Ave. 


Sewing Machines 

ent m^es of shuttle machines. We buy direct 
from the factory. 


Ton buy for one-half the price that sewlnc 
machines are sold for by men who employ 
SSJhtow 118* 120. m for new sewing 


Qinc's Piano House, Seattle 



Invite visitation and examination of their 1908 
Draperies and Carpets. 


Largest variety of figures and qualities ever 
In the West. 

Write or call without delay, 


Second Avenue, Madison and Spring Streets, 

In answering Advertlsameafcs please mention Thb Coast. 

Seattle Theatre 

J. p. HOWE, Maoagar 

Week April 2fl — 


Kurlng May will Be I'r*»nted— 
■The Gin I Lett Behind Me. " 
■Tbe Little MlDlBter " 

Cor. Tblrd Ave. and Cherrj. Pbooe, ] 

Populic Fricea. 

Ilie beautiful new Spring and Summer 
Styles In Silks are now read?. WASH 

Write for samples and prices ot new 
SPRlNQ WAISTINGS. We will gladly 
mall them to you on application. 

mcKartby Dry aoeds Ce. 

Second and Madison Street, 

MootUy i 

Third Avenue Theatre 


Week begloDlng April 20— 

Week bextonlDg May 3 — 

Week beginning Ua; 10 — 

Usy 17— 

The Wklter Sanford's company o( players begin 
an eight weeks* engBgement, foil announce- 
menl of whose repertoire will appear In Deit 

Cor. Tlilrd Ave. and Madison St 
Phone Main E67 
Prices: — 20c, 30c, 40c, 50c. 

25,NI Choice Roses for IMS 

a Seed! tor Western Planters. 


to ttaoie who mention Thb CoAar. 

Pus;e^ Sound Nursery & Seed Co. 

llOT-1109 Second Ave. 

BeattI*. V. 8. i 




Write for particulars, do not delay. 


Seattle, U. S. A. 

Id aniverlng AdTertlsementa please □ 










L 3 


JUNE, 1905 


The Suicide's Lament 

Into the Bhady foreat of selflabneBa wild 

A Boul was led; 
Father, mother, kin, husband and child 

Were left behind; 
Wttb foul decaying pleasures lured tite fiend 

Who etrode ahead, 
To flatter and deceive the soul beguiled 

And tease the mind. 

Great tree trunks rise from out black stagnant pools. 

At heart decked. 
Where eelf-concelt and pride lead on the fools 

To be betrayed; 
The path la strangely smooth and perfumes sweet 

Deceive the air 
Ijntil the soul Is left alone to meet 

Its grim despair. 

Abandoned soul! Loved ones, so far away 

That hope has fled! 
In gloom of ruin then is sought decay 

Amidst the dead; 
But, when love comes with blessings to relieve 

The soul makee cry, 
"Life 18 80 Bweet to me; I want to live — 

Don't let me die!" 

True love then labors with excessive care 

To save who falls. 
Whose veins inflame with passion's poisoned air 

Breathed In, who calls, 
"Life Is BO sweet to me; I want to live — 

Don't let me die!" 
But soul bad sought and tor all love could give, 

Death made reply. 

Hay S, 1903. 

Copyright, 10D2, by Honor L. Wllbslm. 

How a Western City Grows 


Amcilcan citleB arc distinctive of all otti- 
ere In the world In this tbat In their incep- 
tion and growth tbcy are the creatures of a 
public spirit which is centered around the 
hroad liberality and energy only found In the 
United States. A man of forcsiBht and com- 
prehensive grasp of present conditions and 
tbc poSBlbilltles for future development in a 
certain district, sees the opportunity to 
establish a town, realizes the power of 
resources surrounding and at once procures 
the land and lays out a town. In a few 
months his dream U asHumlng form and 
shape, as houses are being constructed and 
stores located In succession after the estab- 

(NoTE.— This artlrle 1e wrltteu and publlshwl 
imder tb« dlrpriloa and sanction ot the Hoqiilani 
I'luU which was organized Decenibei- 

1 numbers a 

I its memhers 

pllotlon of early historical taclH .... 

been exerted to have them aiithenllr; the data nf 
present condKlnnB has befD dlllKenttr aouitht 
BDd caretullj' si^ rut In I zed ; the resourceB haTc 
been fairly com preh ended and the ]io(tslhlllii<!H 
dlBpassIonately stated. Tbe aim ot tlit follow- 
Ing article baa been to set foilh the actual facts 
eiifting and In no sense of the word to put forth 
a bonm wrlteup. The Iloqulaoi rommerclal C\ti\t 
at the present time embraces over one hundred 
members. J. W. Ilnll Is president : It. F. l.vTic, 
vice-president: L. H, Chambers, srcretarT ; li, r. 
I'raswell. treasurer, and J. W. Hull. U. f. I.vtie, 
. Stlne. J. O. Rtearns and C. 11. Kycliard. 

board ol direc 

—The I 

llshment of an Industrial enterprise or tbe 
development of the country surrounding. 
In a tew years bla plans meet their lul- 
Dllmetit and a new city has been established 
as a realized fact which nothing can undo, 

Tbe Pacific Coast Is noted lor Its dearth 
of harbors and seaport centers and very 
few are tbe possibilities of deep water 
shipping between San Francisco and Puget 
Sound. Among the most favorable ot sea- 
shlpplng centers Is Grays Harbor, which 
lies In the Southwestern part ot the State 
ot Washington, In ChehBlls County. Upon 
this harbor and Its entrance the United 
States government has already spent over 
(1,000,000 and other appropriations are un- 
der consideration to make It a sate and 
navigable harbor commensurate to the Im- 
portance of the district aa a manufacturing 
and shipping district. At the present time 
vessels of twenty-toot draft find no trouble 
In entering and leaving the port to and from 
all parts of the world. 

Upon Grays Harbor, where tbe Hoqulam 
River empties ItB fresh waters Icto the sea. 
Is located tbe thriving and growing city of 
Hoqulam, which claims a (population of 
about 4.200 souls. Here upon a peninsula 
lying between the Hoqulam River and the 
harbor, where years ago stretched a tract 


ot morasH and marsh trom the briny waters 
to the Bparkllttg depths flowing Irom tbe 
mountaluH, today a bustling, busy cfty clus- 
ters vlth Its well paved streets and neatly 
painted bouses and cosy homes, which Is 
tbe ci'eatuTe of and sustained by the exten- 
fllTo operation In the forests surrounding 
and the manufacturing thereon depending. 
Here are the Tislble fruits ot industry, en- 
terprise and thrift. 


Hoqulam In name as well as In business 
Is closely connected with tbe trees which 
cover the valleys and stud the hillsides sur- 
rounding. The name Is a contraction of the 
Indian word, "Hoqulampts," whlc^ means, 
"hungry wood." In tbe days long before 
the white man showed his face upon tbe 
Pacific slopes of the NorUiwestern country,' 
the red men came along the coast In tbelr 
canoes and paddled through what Is now 
Grays Harbor. Upon nearlng the first river 
they encountered and paddling up its waters 
tor several miles they beheld a forest of 
mighty cedars and stately firs, standing along 






^vd- ^ 


- f 7 


1 1' 





— , — ^ 



r 1 ^s 



L^-!^ t-- 




the shores and upon the htllsldeB, bereft of 
branches, with tbe bark and sap peeled oft, 
dry and white, tbelr great, tall trunks point- 
ing in the weird and silent melancholy to the 
heavens — dead. Thinking that tbe trees had 
starved to death, the Indians cried out 
"Hoqulampts!" — hungry wood — wblcb named 
the river and from the river the town took 
Its name. Others, however, hold that tbe 
word means "timber hungry," and was used 
to express the Idea that the mud flats In 
the harbor at the mouth of the river, over 
whli^h were strewn countless dead trunks 
and roots of many a giant flr and cedar, were 
"timber hungry" — craved for more trees as 
the waters wallowed the victims already in 
their grasp at every tide. 

The flrst white settler in this vicinity was 
James A. Karr, who in October, 1869, took 
up a preemption claim where a portion of 
Hoquiam now Ilea. He was followed In the 
spring of 1S60, by John Mllroy. In March. 
1S60, Edward Campbell located across the 
river from Mr. Karr and a few months later 
bis brother followed. Sidney Dunlap came 
upon tbe scene in 1S66 and in the same year 
John R. James took up tbe land whereon 
the original townelte of the city was later 
laid out. 

In 1865 a postoffice was secured for the 
settlement and Edward Campbell appointed 
the flrst postmaster. He flrst kept the mall 
In a little shanty built upon the river bank 
and later moved Info his residence, which 
stood where the house now owned by George 


DavlB stands. Prior to tbte time, when the 
goTernmeut survejorB ran the lines along 
the river they had Improperly designated the 
name as "Hoklum," and helng well versed 
In the Indian language and knowing the 
same to be wrong, when he gave the office 
its name he contracted the original word 
"Hoquiampts" to "Hoqnlam." 

son, concluded to put a mill In the then 
virgin rorest. March 29, 1882, the brig "Orl- 
eot" Balled from San Francisco with the lum- 
ber and machinery for a 60,000-foot capacity 
mill which arrived at Its destination on the 
Hoqulam River, April 10th, 18S2. April 6th, 
1SS2, Mr. Emerson determined how the 
streets should be run and a town was laid 

P^io by tj. O. Bteamt, Hogvlon. 

In 1878 the only store In Chehalfs County 
was mn by John Esmond at what was then 
called "Montesaao," but Is now known as 
"Wynooche." In the spring of 1S8Z, after 
having purchased the land of John R. James, 
Capt. A. M. Simpson In partnership with and 
under the management of Oeorge H. Emer- 

out. On the day following a a 

James A. Karr In November, 1882, to a» 
commodate loggers and mlllmen, who de- 
sired to own their own homes, (the poller 
of the mill company being merely to rent), 
laid out a plat tor a town where the QraTS 

Photo by •'. O. Btoarni, Hoiuiam. 


Harbor Iron Worke now stands along the 
rlTer bank, which was never put on record 
because Mr. Bmerson threw the lots of bla 
townaite upon the market. In 1889, what le 
known as Karr's Addition to the City or 
Hoqulam was platted and recorded. 

The flret white woman In Hoqulam wae 
Mrfl. James A. Karr, wbo also was the second 
wblta diild born In Washington. The first 

many Interesting Indian tales. He recount! 
that juBt prior to tbe trouble created br 
Capt. Jack, a Modoc Indian, In Oregon, the 
Indiana up through this country had a 
"dreamer" who prophesied that all the whites 
would be exterminated and the uneophlBtl- 
cuted Slwash Indians began to look up and 
lake on alra. 
Then when tbe news ot Capt. Jack's es- 

Photo liy J. O. j8lMm«, Hovulam. 

atore In tbu town was opened by the mill 
company. Tbe first hotel was the Hlckey 
House run by Phil Hlckey and opened In 

James A. Karr, wbo was elected first aud- 
itor of Cbehalls County and served about 
twelve years, who was justice of the peace, 
and In the legislature In 1876,, 1881 and 1893, 
also, at one time mayor of Hoqulam, relates 

capades reached their ears .uey oegan to get 
ready In earnest for the change. Lazy, old 
uucks, who only knew the taste of whisky 
and smell of smoked Ealmon, looked around 
themselves and picked out their cbolca of 
places improved by the whites and arranged 
to take possession. After tbe assassination 
of Oeneral Canby, the worthless rogues grew 
bold and some tbought was had by tbe set- 



tiers concerDlng their safety and sell-preser- 

John MetcBlt. a brusk, all-round bluBer, 
as courageous as he was outspoken, saw sev- 
eral villainous looking Siwashes banging 
around and going up to tliem he said: "If 
you Indians don't quit your d— — q foolish- 
ness, there is five hundred soldiers at Olym- 
pla Just waiting to come down here and kill 

every d n one of you. Now you Just git 

out at here and mind your own bualnesB!" 
(The tacts were that there were no soldiers 
at Olympia, but the redskins hiked, Just the 

A few days later, a Siwash, who was on 
good terms with Mr. Karr. as be was helping 
the pioneer row up the river, grew con- 

dollars to get married. Judge, can't yon 
unmarry Jim tor the same amount! It 
shouldn't cost more than Ave dollars to get 

The second saw mill at Hoqulam was built 
In 18SS by the Hoqulam Lumber and Im- 
provement Company, of which James A. Karr 
was president; William Ogden, secretary and 
treasurer, and P. D. Arnold, a director. This 
plant was afterward sold to E. K. Wood and 
is now being operated by the E. K. Wood 
Lumber Company, which has added many 
additions to the plant and made It tbe second 
Institution In the city of Importance. 

In ISSS and 1SS9 the town of Hoqulam be- 
gan to grow and show signs ot a coming 

' Odential and said, after be had mentioned 
there being "bad Indians," and the threat- 
ened outbreak, 

"Hiaa kiahiam. halo mamoJc icta kopa Bos- 
ton tillacum." (Very weak, would not worfc 
any hardship against white people), mean- 
ing that tbe Indians could not cope with five 
hundred' soldiers — they were too weak! 

At another time a kalooch came to see Mr. 
Karr while he was Justice of the peace. The 
woman's husband had run off and married 
another. She wanted Judge Karr to get a 
divorce of her husband, "Jim," from bis 
newly fpund love for her and asked how 
much a divorce would cost. She was as- 
tounded at the amount he meet lone d and 
kept repeating in her Indian Jargon, 

"Fifty Dollars! Uh! Uh! It only cost five 

boom. In ISSS, O. W. Hunt, ot the Hunt 
Railroad System, which planned to constmct 
a trunk line from Walla Walla to Qrays 
Harbor as its deep sea terminus, began active 
operations and sold (2,000.000 worth of 
bonds In Portland alone. The Northern Pa- 
cific, seeing the birth of a rival, at once be- 
gan to run surveys, and in ISSS these two 
companies graded side by side from Cen- 
tralla to Elma. Then the Hunt people gave 
up the flgbt. However, the Northern Pacific 
continued to build on to tide water and when 
they reached tbe Chehalls River crossed over 
and continued along tlie south shore ot Orays 
Harbor to a point where they laid out a town 
which they called "Ocosta," about flve miles 
from the sea. 
In ISSB Hoqulam began to boom. With 



two a&w mlllfl running and diepoalnff at their 
entire product and new Induatrles starting 
up, the place took on lively and proeperoue 
airs. June 4th, ISSS, the place incorporated 
wlbi ttae'followlDg council: Qeorge H. Em- 
erson, John F. Soule, W. D. Mack, O. C, 
Gamage and i-. T. Balcb, who met and elected 
George H. Emerson, chairman; W. D. Mack, 
clerk; John F Soule, treasurer. In May of 
1860, an elect'on was held anci J. T. Bums 
elected mayor and Cbae. F. Lancaster, John 
Richardson, O. M. Murphy. Peter Autzeu 
and George 'W. France. councUmen, who met 
and organized May 23, 1890. 

In 18S9 an eloctrlc light plant was In- 
stftDed. Prior to this time Mr. Emerson had 
Inaugurated a water plant for tbe mill and 
had extended It for the use of the growing 

to feel the tread of busy feet again, the 
people of Aberdeen, a city a few miles up the 
harbor on the Chehalla River, where it re- 
ceives the Wiahkah, built the railroad from 
Aberdeen Junction Into their city and gave 
It to the Northern Pacific Railroad. This 
road stopped at the Wl^hah River. But 
Hoqulam, smarting under the neameas yet 
uaelessness of the railroad was not long to 
get into action. 

In lS9g and 1S99 Hoqulam people felt the 
necessity of a useful railway outlet, as well 
as shipping, and Cbeater A, Condon, Harry 
C. Heermans and George H. Emerspn. repre- 
senting the Grays Harbor Company, Harbor 
Land Company and Bast Hoqulam Com- 
pany, at their own expense, proceeded to pro> 
cure the right of way tor a road from the 

town. In February, 1884, the Norttwestern 
Lumber Company was Incorporated for the 
purpose of operating mills at South Bend. 
Knappton and here, which fn 18S6 purchased 
the Emerson mill and Increased Its capacity 
and shipping facilities. Mr. Emerson, how- 
ever, remained manager. 

Then came the panic, but as Insufficient 
buildings to house the workmen of the mills 
existed, the eawe continued to aing their 
songs of employment by cutting lumber and 
with the market at San Francisco, in addi- 
tion to the borne demand continuing, they 
were not stopped by the depression. With- 
out a railroad, Hoqulam continued to pros- 
per and the bard times passed scarcely no- 

In 1895 when the ways of 

Aberdeen terminus Into Hoqulam. They 
then built the present depots In Aberdeen 
and Hoqulam, constructed the drawbridges 
across the Wlshkah and Hoqulam Rivers, 
graded and tied the right of way at an 
expense of over (80,000. When tbis was 
done, they transferred their rights to the 
Northern Pacific Railway, with tbe under- 
standing that that company would iron and 
use the tine, and that the money so spent by 
the individuals In the enterprise would he 
returned In the way oC monthly rebates, but 
as the first month's receipts at the Hoqulam 
office alone ran in excess Of 125,000, the rail- 
way people changed their modus operandi, 
and repaid the amount In monthly cash 
Four years ago the Hoqulam Water Com- 

Sell. Fttd J. Wocd. 

pany. Harry C. Heermana, president and 
manager, purchased from the Northwestern 
Lumber Company Its water rights and con- 
structed a complete new water works sys- 
tem. This company takes Its supply from the 
North Fork of the Little Hoqulam River, 
from which they maintain a flume four miles 
long, carrying the water to the pumphouse. 
From here It ia pumped to a reservoir a mile 
from the city limits which gives them a grav' 
ity pressure of 100 pounds. The pumping 
capacity of the plant Is 5,000,000 gallons 
every twenty-four hours and the reservoir 
i-olda 2.000,000 gallons. In addition to the 
flume seven miles of pipe line are in use. 

In 1902 the North Shore Electric Company 
replaced the old plant with an entirely new 
one, which Is among the best equipped in 
the state, and Is operated by Oeorge H. 
Emerson and Harry C. Heermans. They 
have In use 2.500 Incandescent ard 40 arc 
lamps. The two large saw mills have elec- 
tric light plants of tbelr own. 


Thus have we hastily enumerated the 
stages of Hoqulam's Inception and growth. 
Today, the city stands among the most pros- 

perous and promising of towns of the North- 
west. The great forest of timber tributary 
to It and the advantages for securing tha 
raw material and of shipping ttie manufac- 
tured product to the consumer, botli by sea 
and by rail, bave been the secret of its phe- 
nomenal, unbroken history of prosperity. 
Here follows a list of the active Industries, 
illustrations of some of which appear here- 

The Northwestern Lumber Company's mill 
has a capacity of 126,000 feet every ten hours 
and employs 500 men. This company operate 
a saw mill, shingle mill, box factory, three 
tug boats, nine dry kilns, machine shops, 
blacksmith shop and store, and bave under 
roof over seven acres. They maintain their 
own water and electric light plants. Eigh- 
teen boilers are utilized with a 1,500-borse- 
power. C. H. Jones Is president of the com- 
pany and Qeorge H. Emerson, manager. Mr. 
Jones has been identified witb t^e Institution 
Since April, 1901, at which time he secured 
the major portion of the Interest previously 
held by Capt. A, M. Simpson, of San Fran- 
cisco. He also oas extensive Interests in the 
i^ast and Is a heavy stockholder In the St. 

Il*au1 A Tacoma Lumber Companr, witb of- 
Qces at Tacoma. He takes a keen iatersBt 
Id the development of tbe lumber Industry 
at this place and Favors tbe growth o( 
Hoquiam. Tbe Norlbwestern Lumber Com- 
pany Is tbe city's leading^ institution, and as 
It grew and Increased In Importance and 
wealtb in tbe past, so grew and flourished 
the city, the Inception of whlcb was had in 
the establishment of the original mill bv 
by ItH predecessors. In 1S96 the plant was 
consumed by Are, but was Immediately re- 
built better and larger tban before. The 
enterprise and progressive spirit of Its people 
have enabled It to carry a payroll continu- 
ously, which has put money at all times Into 
the tills of Hoqul&m merchants and been the 
backbone of tbe city's progress, creating a 
market for t^e army of loggers In the forest 
getting out timber and a product for the 
Elastern States and countries beyond the sea. 
The E. K. Wood Lumber Company's mill 
bas a capacity of 110,000 feet every ten 
. hours. At present they employ 140 people. 
O. M. Kellogg Is tbe manager. This mill Is 
equipped witb Its own waterworks system 
and electric light plant and In connection 
vlth Its other departments conducts a gen- 
eral merchandizing store. This is tbe second 
largest Institution employing labor In Ho- 

The Moqulam Lumber and Shingle Com- 
pany ranks next In Importance, as a factor 
In the city's industries. This concern bas a 
dally capacity of 600.000 shingles and gives 
employment to 65 men. Its product finds a 
ready sale Decauae of the excellence of its 
timber. R. F. Lytle Is president; J. O. 
Stearns, vice president and secretary: A. H. 
Kubn, superintendent. The largest record 
for shingle packing In this part of the state 
Is held at this mil!. In ten hours an em- 
ploye packed 74.000 shingles. 

The Hoquiam Shipyards, of which Oeorge 
H. Hltchlngs Is manager. Is one of Hoquiam's 
Important Industries. We print herewitb an 
engraving, which shows five vessels and 
steamboats constructed at these yards. This 
Institution was established In 1S9T and at the 
present time gives employment to 65 men. 
Ihey now are placing on the ways the keel 
and ribs of an oil burner steamer of 900,000 
feet capacity for the E. K. Wood Company. 
The "Fearless," a sailing vessel built at this 
yard, holds the record between Shanghai and 
Puget Sound, having made 320 knots In a 
day's run. 

The Panel and Folding Box Company Is 
among the newer Institutions of this place, 
but since Its establishment has enjoyed ex- 
ceptional prosperity. This concern makes 
folding berry boxes, panel fruit packing cases 



and TCDeer pHckagee of various klnde..- J. 
H. authoff le general manager, and gives 
emploftnent to 60 people. At present the 
company bas under construction a saw mill 
plant with a capacity of 100.000 feet, whlcb 
will employ 100 workmen. O, C. Fenlason 
ia president of the company, and tbe Invent- 
or of Fenlaaon's patent folding berry box. 

Tbe Koqulam Sash and Door Company, one 
of tbe older Institutions of the place, ia now 
constructing an additional plant to Its fac- 
tory at an outlay of fZ0,OOD, whlcb will in- 
crease tbeir capacity to GOO doors per diem, 
and In vblch they will employ over GO 
workmen. J. A. Acteaon la president and 
manager of tbe concern; J. W. Hull, aecre- 

The Grays Harbor Iron Works, of ^hlch 
we prli)t a view, la a new but important In- 
dustry here. It employs 26 men and man- 
ufacturea logging engines, loggers' supplies. 

mill, with a 2G0,000 capacity, employing 40 
men, and the Hoqulam Lumber and Shingle 
Company Is building a saw mill, which when 
completed and In operation will have a 
capacity of 1ZG,000 feet and employ IZB men. 

A new hospital is In contemplation, and 
many new houses are being conatructed 
throughout the city. 

In tbis connection it is well to state that 
during the year 1902, over 85,000,000 feet of 
manufactured lumber and logs were ahlpped 
from this place, which is a showing mad« 
by few cities the alee and age of Hoqulam. 
in 1903. with the new mills now under 
construction, In operation, the output Wi. 
be over 200.000,000 feet. 

Loooina AS a. soiehoe. 

In order to provide material for the 
rapacious and ever devouring mills, much 
activity la centered in Hoqulam in logging. 

Photo bv J. 0. Stearnt, Hoguiam. 

mill supplies. Its plant Is under tbe manage- 
ment of A. E. Charleawortb. 

The Hoqulam Iron Works Is another tn- 
dnstry necessitated by tbe large operations 
In lumbering and logging here and In this 
vicinity. They do general repair work and 
manufacturing and give employment to 
twelve men. S. S: SItvIs Is manager; F. L. 
Morgan, secretary, with Harry Break Iron 
and S. K. Hudson. 

Tbe Grays Harbor Lumber Company Is 
now constructing a saw mill here, which, 
wnen completed, will have a capacity of 
125,000 feet dally and give employment to 
over 100 men. D. B. Hanson Is president and 
uanager; J. 0. Davenport, vice president; 
Geo. L. Davis, secretary; F. F. Williams, 
treasurer. This promises to become one of 
tne city's leading Industries. 

In addition to the foregoing there Is under 
construction, tbe Poison-Matbeson sb Ingle 

whlcb Is conducted In the territory tributary. 
Mr. Emerson, of the Northwestern Lumber 
Company, maintains that two-thirds of all 
tbe logs In Cbeballs County come to Ho- 
qulam. In this Industry we here find rail- 
roads built from the rivers back Into the 
forest; also systems of dams used to pro- 
duce artlflcial freshets on aide streams to 
carry logs to navigable water. Grays Har- 
oor loggers were the first to use the steam 
sKlu which they operated with a $-inch 
manlla rope before tbe advent of the wire 
cable, and they were pioneers In aerial 
cable-way logging. They are now ahead of 
other districts In tbe methods of conducting 

These logging dams are expensive affairs. 
costing from (3,000 to tlO,000 apiece and are 
built with automatic gates. Upon tbe arti- 
ficial freshets thus produced, logs can be car- 
ried down tributary streams to the rivers at 



times otherwise Impossible. We preeeot a 
view ebovlDg the gates open and the logs 
and water rushing through. This Is called 
"splashing." There are at the present time 
twenty dama upon the side streams tributar; 
to the Hoqulam River. In the canon ot the 
Humptullps River a dam Is being constructed 
wiilch when completed will be an engineering 
teat of no mean proportions. 

There are a number of Jogging railroads 
in this part ot the state. The Chehalla Coun- 
ty Logging Compaiiy operate a road at Mon- 
teaano and another line trom Melburn to the 
Little North River. Another railroad near 
Montesano Is that operated by Charles Cle~ 
mons, which Is tributary to the Chehatte 
River. Other roads are operated by the Pol- 
son Logging Company, the Mack Logging 
company and the Lytle Logging and Mercan- 
tile Company, which will be mentioned else- 

and also have camps on the Blast Fork ot 
the rioqulam River and on the HumptuUpa. 
Tbls company la at the present time con- 
structing a railroad from South Bay up 
the Elk River, about five mllea, to facili- 
tate tbem In their conduct ot logging. They 
employ over 2B0 men. R. F. Lytle Is the 
president and manager of the company. 
The output ot their camps combined last year 
was 45,000,000 teet of logs. 

The Poison Logging Company conduct 
operations along the Hoqulam River and 
tributarlea and have five camps. They have 
been established twenty years, Alexander 
Poison la president and Robert Poison, man- 
ager. In 1902 they took out 6G,000,000 teet 
ot logs and give In the conduct of their busi- 
ness employment to about 300 workmen. 
Seven miles up the Hoqulam they operate a 
railroad which extends twelve miles back 
Into the timber. At the present time they 

Photo fty /. 0. Stearni, Hooulom. 

The Lamb Cableway is a method ot logging 
which has been In operation here for several 
months. This Is a device whereby logs can 
be hoisted out of ravines and carried across 
Intervening gulches to high lands wherefrom 
they are skidded to navigable waters or rail- 
ways. The Frank H. Lamb Timber Com- 
pany operate one successfully which em- 
braces a 1000-Ioot span with a breaking 
atrain ot 100 tone. They carry without 
trouble logs containing 4,000 feet. We pub- 
Uah a view ot the cableway which la located 
on Black Creek, a branch ot the Wynooche 
River, near Montesano, which crosses a gulch 
460 feet deep. Frank H. Lamb, ot Hoqulam, 
la the Inventor and patentee and la now 
building two cableways to be put up for Uie 
Wind River Lumber Company, near Cascade 
Locks. Oregon. 

The Lytle Logging and Mercantile Com- 
pany carry on operations along the Elk River 

are using three locomotives. Recently this 
firm consolidated with Ring & Merrill, of 
Saginaw, Michigan, and will double their 

The Mack Logging Company carry on oper- 
ations and conduct a logging railroad, wblch 
extends five miles back trom Elma. This 
firm In 1902 took out over 25,000,000 teet Ot 
logs wblch were shipped principally to Olym- 
pla and Grays Harbor. In addition to this a 
large number of spare were cut and shipped 
to shipyards in Maine and Eastern points. 
W. D. Mack Is president ot the company, and 
lives at Olympia; W. L. Adams Is secretary 
and director, and Peter Autzen Is manager. 
The offices and headquarters are at Hoqulam. 
This company employs over one hundred 
men, and Is among the oldest logging Inetl- 
tutlons Id this part ot the state. 

The Frank H. Lamb Timber Company 
operate along the Wynooche River, three and 


on«-half miles north of Monteeano. The; 
now employ 80 men and are building a rail- 
road to extend to Uie Chehalla River, which 
wlil glTe them a direct outlet to Oraye Har- 
bor. Thie la the tint camp In which the 
aerial cable way was operated and found to 
be a success. 

Prank Stenzel logs along a tributary of the 
Humptulips Rlyer and gives employment to 
over 60 men. 

Williams A Johnson openkte along the 

are moat excellent opportunltlea for cattle 
grazing and fanning and already the dairy- 
ing Interest of Chebalis County Is one of the 
chief pursuits. Thus we find that in addi- 
tion to an almost Inexhaustible timber sup- 
ply the fertile soil of tbe logged off lands In 
the valleys and upon the uplands afford an 
unlimited opportunity for farming and dairy- 
ing. A ready and good market Is at all times 
offered for the fruits and products of the field 
and farm. 

Humptulips and last year took out 8,000,000 
feet of logs. They employ 30 men. 


The County of Chehalla was first Investi- 
gated and peopled by the farmers from the 
Olympla and Black River Districts of the. 
State of Washington, who pushed out to find 
fertile valleys which they might till and wide 
acres upon which they might feed and graze 
their cattle. Coming as they did these fol- 
lowers of the agricultural and pastoral pur- 
suits pushed out down to tbe Chehalla River 
and following the banks of thie river located 
at what was then called "Montesano," now 
"Wynooche." From there they came across 
Into the Qrays Harbor district. Up and down 
the Chebalis, Wynooche and Satsop Valleys 

In Ita general business and commercial pur- 
suits Hoqulam is at the present time enjoy- 
ing unprecedented prosperity. There la em- 
ployment for the laboring men, because of 
the mild climate throughout the year, and 
there are payrolls which give the merchant 
an opportunity to conduct a paying and 
profitable business. Workmen receive good 
wages; mlllmen from f2,E0 to fT.GO; In log- 
ging camps, %2M to $5.00; carpenters, 13.60 
for nine-hour day; longshoremen, M-OO; ordi- 
nary labor, f2.E0, In social, educational and 
religious matters this place enjoys facilities 
among tbe best In this part of tbe state. 

The schools are graded and include a two- 
year bigb school course. They are under tbe 
superin tendency of Prof. E. H. Anderson, 
who Is ably assisted by the following corps 



of efficient teachers: G. W. Scboll, H. M. 
Korstad, Ethel Page, Georgia M. Powell, An- 
abel Netherly, Ida Sweet, Pearl V. Hunter, 
UatUda OroBB, Grace E. Stuart, Jennie Hall, 
JesBle KingBbur? and Maud Chamberlain. 
The enrollment for 1903 le S64. They occupy 
two capaciouB buildings and are contemplat- 
ing constructing another during the coming 
summer. The school tm&rd Ifi composed of 
W. Ll Adams, chairman; I. B. Cooper and 
O. M. Kellogg, with Z. T. Wilson, clerb. 

Th« Methodist Episcopal, the Baptist, the 
Swedish, the Presbyterian, the Episcopal and 
the Catholic churches maintain houses of 
worship and the leading lodges, fraternal or- 
ders and unions conduct flourishing organ- 

tained with two engine houses. The city 
enjoys the facilities offered by an excellent 
telephone system which gives tiie citizens 
connections with all outside points on the 
Pacific Coast. 

The hotel facilities are among the Tery 
best in the state, the leading houses conduct- 
ed upon the American plan being the Hotel 
Hoquiam. with 100 rooms, of which Edward 
Lycan le proprietor; the New York Hotel, 
witn 85 rooms, of which G. W. Lamping Is 
proprietor, and the Pomona Hotel, of which 
H. C. HuDgerford la proprietor. 

The city supporte two newspapers, The 
Doily Wathingtonian, which publishes in the 
evening, of which J. D. Dean Is editor and 
proprietor, and Gani't Savtyer, a weekly. 

The present mayor of the city Is Dr. T. C. 
Frary, who has long served in that capacity; 
treasurer, F. G. Tilly; clerh, Z. T. Wilson. 
and Marshal I. B. Cooper. The councilmen 
are Sherman Hoover, Thos. Tilly, H. Winters. 
Pbll Mourant, C. F. Hill, Tbos. Soule and 
J. G. Foster. 

St David's Hospital, operated under the 
auspices of the Episcopalian Church, is an 
excellent Institution, it has been established 
nine years and has twenty-four beds. Mrs. N. 
SL M. Rllky Is matron and Is assisted by 
competent trained nurses. 

The Ic"i'n supports a commodious opera 
house. '' ^cb Is equipped with one of the 
best st:i^c] in the state. It seats TOO people. 

An excellent Are department under the 
direction of Andrew Bruce, chief, is main- 


Prom tho start the history of Hoquiam 
has been almost entirely free from business 
failures. It3 business people have been of 
the conservative type and at this time all of 
the older concerns are strong, prosperous 
and sate for the future. 

No doubt some measure of this result Is 
due to the example set by Its leading financial 
Institution, the First National Bank, 

The Inlluence of a strong and solid banking 
Instllutlon on the growth of a town or city 
l3 frequently overlooked. Many a growing 
town In this western country has been set 
baclc for years by a disastrous bank failure. 



Otbere have lagged In the race because tlielr 
banking institutions have been poorly cap- 
italized and consequentli' unable to care tor 
tbe legitimate commercial needs of a growing 

Tbe First National of Hoqulam is today 
the only bank In tiie Orays Harbor country 
out of tbe eight that were in business before 
the panic of 1893. Four otlier banks have 
been organized since, but it may be interest- 
ing to note that the working capital of the 
First National (nearly tlOO.OOO) exceeds the 
capital of these four banke combined. 

W. Jj. Adame has been cashier of the bank 
since 1893. His associates on the board of 
directors are Geo. H. Emerson, O. M. Kellogg, 
C. F. White and Peter Autzen. Since 1S9S 

At the present time the Northern Paciflc 
Railroad Is constructing a continuation of 
its road which will run from this place to 
the boundary of the Qulnlault Indian Reser- 
vation, which win be completed by Septem- 
ber of this year. The company has already 
completed surveys to the Quillayute River 
where !t Is expected connections will be 
made eventually with the railroad now 
being built from Port Angeles to that point 
Thus all rail shipping from the Olympic pen- 
insula must pass through Hoqulam. It is the 
gateway to tbe vast untouched acres of tim- 
ber and agricultural lands along the Pacific 
slope of the Olympic range, where eighty 
townships of unsurveyed lands He covered 
thickly with timber and with fertile valleys 

Mr. Adams has been the bank's executive 
officer. During this period the bank's busi- 
ness has shown a very gratifying Increase. 
although the town has not grown sufficient- 
ly as yet to give full employment to the 
bank's funds. 


Hoqulam Is admirably situated in regard 
to the future possibilities and opportuni- 
ties. The city Is located at the most west- 
erly point upon Grays Harbor which is 
adapted to tbe growth and facilities of a 
commercial. Industrial and shipping center. 
It is at the mouth of the Hoqulam river, 
which affords excellent shlpplDg. and is 
the present terminus of the Northern Pa- 
cific railroad which gives it a rail outlet 
to all parts of the United States. 

and prairies awaiting the ambitious settler 
when the country Is opened up as it will be 
at no late day. 

Then, there Is the North Beach extend- 
ing from Orays Harbor to tbe Qulnlault 
Reservation along which the railroad will 
run for some distance, being constructed 
along the sands at the water's edge, which ' 
cannot fail to be a most picturesque and 
beautiful line where the passengers can 
look from the car windows and behold the 
great waves and rolling surf come tumbl- 
ing in upon tbe rocky beach and Bandy 
Eboats. Already steps have been taken 
and activities are being indulged In con- 
structing summer hotels and locating pleas- 
ant resorts for those who desire to get away 
from the worries and anxieties of business 



cares for a few weeks or months in the mid- 
dle of the sammer. 

Along North Beach picturesque rocks and 
stony Islets stftnd out from the shore, over 
which the Pacific swells and angry waves 
dash their incoming waters to rise and fall 
in spray of snowy foam. On the shore side 
the high bluffs of promontories in many 
places reach out and touch the water's 
ever moving depths and whitecapped waves 
at many periods of the year can be seen 
trying as it were to scale those precipitous 
sides and fruitlessly and helplessly fall 
back into the bosom of the deep in frantic 

Point Granville is a most beautiful spot. 
Here is a bay extending on the south 
side while a bluff two hundred feet high 
reaches out into the ocean for half a mile. 
Here all the beauties, the grandeur and the 
glories of the wide, unbounded deep can be 
seen and enjoyed. 

At the mouth of Joe Creek the railroad 
touches the beach and from this point for 
two and one-half miles continues along the 
sandy and rocky shores until it reaches 
the mouth of the Moclips River, the south 
boundary of the Quiniault Reservation where 
it terminates. Grandeur, sublimity and 
beauty all combine to make this the most 
attractive spot along the whole line. A 
town has here been laid out named Moclips, 
and the place promises, when the contem- 
plated improvements are made, to be a lead- 
ing summer resort on the Pacific coast. 

Thus, we see that the resources of Ho- 
quiam and vicinity are as yet unsung and 
beyond measure. 25,000,000,000 feet of tim- 
ber lies directly tributary to the place. 
When the standing timber now being work- 
ed by the logging companies and lumber- 
men begins to show signs of depreciation, 
and the neighboring valleys and hills are 
bereft of their valuable gift of nature to be 
turned into grazing and farming lands, (if 
such time shall ever arrive,) in such an 
event, this virgin territory will await the 
azman's efforts and the hum of the busy 
saw. As soon as the present line is com- 
pleted it will touch and give access to an 

immense cedar belt which covers several 

Also, the Humptulips valley with its fer- 
tile acres will bid welcome to the farmer 
with his homestead and furrowing plow. 
Upon the highlands in many places are 
prairies as fertile and productive as any 
of the lower valleys. In addition to this 
there are cranberry marshes which offer 
opportunities for culture in the much sought 
and delicious fruit of marshy soil. 

At Berrymede, on the North Beach now, 
Robt. Chabot has ten acres under cultiva- 
tion, from which he receives a nice income, 
increasing each year as the plants increase 
in size. 

Near the mouth of the Chepahs River, up- 
on the beach, are strong indications of oil. 
Already on the shore off Chepalis Rock a 
well has been put down 8^0 feet through 
soil so impregnated with coal oil a|id gases 
that a match when lighted and held at the 
opening will cause an. explosion. However, 
as yet, oil in paying quantities has not been 

In this brief and hasty epitome we have 
endeavored to set forth facts and» figures 
of Uie present resources and industrial pur- 
suits centering at Hoquiam. We have por- 
trayed its future possibilities and opportun- 
ities without passion, truthfully and cor- 
rectly as the present means at hand will 
afford. The story is interesting and attract- 
ive and seems beyond comprehension, but 
it is true. However, with all the wide and. 
varied prospects, be it thoroughly under- 
stood, no success can here be had or enjoyed 
without indefatigable and persevering ef- 
forts. It takes brains; it takes brawn; |t 
taxes money to reach the summit of com- 
plete success and happiness; but, with either 
of these three, success can be attained, if 
the seeker be industrious, earnest and per- 
severing. The door of opportunity stands 
open leading in unto the fields vacant of 
toilers ana those, who will, may enter. The 
way is wide and the workers are few, but 
for those who will to do, and be something 
more than a mere automaton, the pathway 
leads to favor and fulfillment. 


a tale of life dm seattle 
Fhonor lwilhelmH 

Binonia or Puo* CHuma. 

Aatmr to Blanche'! Letter — Mother Hitti 
"Ht Blancblc. be !■ fooling jon ; Dick li 
foollu" — "Uotbcr, I Io»8 blm. tot all the iw 
caused mt." Chapter IX, — Mr. Uatteraon'i 
•crlptloD of the Seattla Fire. Cbapter X.— 
Cbarictsrlgtlr HippcDlnsa lb the Home of 
Bcratiher— The Hot to H«Te Michael I 
Droned lb a Varletr Theatre, Chapter 
BeeluDlnE of Jllcbael Sean' Cbnrrh Rvlatlou In 
Seattle— Deac ' ' " " - - - 


Chapter XII.— Pen-plct 


Dtrap Blanche. Michael Seara 

Sears li kItbd a roo 

m at Ur«, Clfiud'a house. The 

IrlllP, The 

the HIghtjr Pover. XVIII— The paibwar of love. 
DeacrlpttoD Mt. Rainier. XIX — Concerolng tbe 
practice of lav. Btaocbe UattersoD worlclDR In a 
reslsursnt. XX— Mra. Cloud 111078 Michael Bears 
to remain at her home. Mrs. Cloud tries to keep 
Michael from the church fair. Will It be Mn. 
Cloud or Ruth Tlldon who marries Michael Bears? 
XXI— Michael proposes to Ruth TildoP ■"'' !■ ■-■ 
cep ted— Suit Is begun s gainst DIek by 

-Dick enlightens 

ir. Tlldon. Ruth's father, 
— Ruth sent off to Boston 
■ :burcli paper. 

XXII -- 

■bout Sea 

to school — -ujcoaei msas c 

XXIII— Mrs. Cloud grows 

ed lo the legislature— Dick boys Blanche a blcfcls 
—Tbe Preacher has a talk wltb Dick and learns 
of Michael Sesrs and the theatre episode — Troubls 
brews. ChapIerXX IV. —Christ mas Amenities— Mr. 
Seats Dips Into Politics— Friction Between tbe 
Church Authorities and the Sabbath School Su- 
perintendent. CSspler XXV— Rome ^01" Hla- 
tory of Church I'olltlcs^Thj 

t'olltlcii In which Bears gels the worst of It. 
Chapter NXVII. — Micbael Sears Resigns from Sab- 
tialb School— Hs Is Tbrown Out wltb do Kecontae 
-His Hones are a Vote of tbe Bcbool and Vlndl- 
ration. Chapter XXVIII.— Ruth Tlldons Hall U 
(ntercepied and CommunlcstloD with Her AfBanced 
Cut Otf^— She Believes Michael Innocent — Tbe Uts- 
ter; of PrUsle Mai Revealed— Prissls Hal AbSD- 
dons Her Evil Life. Chapter XXIX.— Dick 
Scratcher In his race to oTcrtake Blanche Matter- 
son to kill hpr remits In d Isa ate c- -Michael Sears 
and Lizzie have an evening of fun. Chapter XXX. 
— Cbargea preterr^d agalnat Michael Bears — Recov- 
ery of Dick Sc rate her— Ruth Tlldon wonders why 
Michael Sean does not write lo bet, Cbapter 
XXXI.— The church trial. 

FrlBsle H&l was called In flret and told 
how tbe plot had been arranged to drug Mr. 
Sears and how It bad been carried out; and 
concluded by relating why and under what 
clrcum stances she had been la his company. 
When she had concluded Mr. Speculator 

"You are now a variety actresa?" 

"No; I am now waiting In a restaurant, 
trying to lead a good life and get money to 
go home to my parents, who live In Boston," 
she replied. 

"What is your parents' name?" asked Mr. 

"Sutherland." she answered. 
'Profeasor Sutherland?" he asked with an 

"Yes, sir," she answered, and was given a 
seat Just outside the circle. 

Mr. Batea'came In and corroborated what 
she said. So, also, did Mr. Flyer. 

One of the membera of the board, a friend 
of Mr, Sear?, then spohe up and quietly re- 
marked that he had taken the trouble to go 
and Interview one of the editors of the pa- 
pers and was given to understand, in re- 
sponse to hiR Inquiries, that Mr. Sears had 
nothing whatever to do with the writing or 
publishing of the articles mentioned In the 

Mrs. Cloud then came in before the board 
and told about Mr. Sears' private life. She 
related how he had talked Co her and Uzile 
about aplritnal things and what a kind and 
forgiving fellow he was, and how steadfast 



to the church he was. She also told how 
worried he was oyer the turn of aftalrs in 
the church and how he often spoke about 
the Sabbath school and his work in it 

Wh^i she had concluded, Prissie Mai 
jumped up and of her own volition told the 
boaxd that it was the words and sympathy 
of Mr. Sears that had kept her from going 
back into the old life after she had made 
up her mind to turn away from it and pre- 
pare to return to her parents. 

"And now, gentlemen/' said Mr. Sears, 
arising in their midst, his face beaming with 
an uncommon light of pleasure at the words 
of Mr& Cloud and es]>ecially Prissie Mai, 
**I hope this will relieve your minds of the 
moral turpitude which may have seemed to 
have surrounded my actions. It is very 
easy to see matters in a misleading light I 
know that I am not perfect; but, gentlemen," 
and his voice rang out clear and strong "I 
have tried to live in the fear and righteous- 
ness of the Lord. I have been humbled and 
my spirit lies broken and crushed at the 
throne of grace. I bear none of you ill- 
will or malice; I only beg of .you that you 
will judge me as you would be judged. Many 
times I have felt that all was lost; many 
times I have been rolled and tossed upon the 
billows of despair, but through it all the 
grace of God has sustained me. When the 
way has been dark. He has made it light. 
Wben the burdens have been heavy. He has 
given strength. During the past few months, 
when I have seemed to experience the foun- 
dations of faith crumbling beneath me. He 
has given me courage. When faltering and 
wavering, my heart and soul has been held 
in the way and my eye has been directed 
toward the true faith by the words of that 
grand hymn, the language of which is: 

''Stand fast, my soul ; forget not 

Jesus will with thee abide ; 
Think not of self, and fret not ; 

Jesus ever stands beside ; 
Let not despair be stealing 

Future hopes that are divine ; 
Jesus, with love reveal Ing, 

Calls thee His, as He is thine. 

"Be not afraid of failing: 

Jesus says He Is the way : 
Be not with tears bewailing; 

Jesus wipecr all tears away ; 
Be not wfth sorrow grieving ; 

Joy and gladness ever be, 
If thou but trust, believing 

Jesus can do all for thee. 

"Soul, be with Jesus living: 

All thy troubles Jesus knows ; 
Thy sin He Is forgiving; 

Only love His Spirit shows; 
Come, soul, before the setting 

Sun has gone beyond recall. 
With Jesus all be letting — 

Jesus loves thee best of all. 

^'Gentlemen, I stand before you under a 

most serious charge. The very life of my soul's 
existence is at stake. This erring daughter 
who has told you her story and whom 
God has snatched from the portals of hell 
has given you the truth. There can be no 
crime without an intention in the heart or 
mind to commit a wrongful act and, God 
knows, I never meant to do an act of sin. 
As to my actions and conduct in the election, 
time has shown^ that I was not wrong as 
you have made out, for, as you each one now 
well know, the gambling houses have been 
closed, and closed by the very man whom 
the Outs and the churches so willingly villi- 
fied, and steps at the present time are under 
way to close up the varieties. As to the 
remaining charges, enough has been said 
when it is admitted that they were miscon- 
strued. Christ was reviled, because he went 
among, ate with and sat in the midst of 
sinners and, as a follower of His, I esteem 
it an honor to be reviled as was He, so long 
as I become not one of them — so long as I 
remain in the world, but not of the world; 
so long as my soul is not tarnished or sul- 
lied with their sins. 

"Peter betrayed his Master with an oath; 
yet, after he repented " 

"Mr. Sears," interrupted Mr. Speculator, 
"I withdraw that charge; I may have been 
mistaken." Mr. Sears then continued: 

"And, gentlemen, to conclude, permit me 
to say that, as I stand here, perhaps for 
the last time as .a brother member of yours 
in this church, under the stigma of the most 
horrible charges, which may be made against 
a Christian; as I live, driven out and cut 
oft from the most tender and blessed rela- 
tions which existed when I was superintend- 
ent of your Sabbath school; as I stand bereft 
of the love and esteem of the dear one, to 
whom I was plighted in troth; as I urge you 
to not forget that as mortals we are all 
prone to sin, I can only say that I pray the 
great loving God of us all to guide your 
decision and temper your action with the 
charity which is the essence of our faith — 
the true faith of the risen and loving Lord, 
the Savior, Jesus Christ. 

"Be the outcome what it will, I shall still 
believe in the living Lord of Hosts; I shall 
continue to have faith in the God of the 
Universe; I shall ever livoi in the eternal 
and everlasting hope of the Holy Spirit, 
Who covers us with His divine presence at 
all times and Who is our shield and protec- 
tion in all places. Of a truth, in this dark 

"In the stillness of the night, 
When the shades are creeping ; 

When the stars with twinkling light 
Are their vigils keeping ; 



When the qalv'ring air in fright 

Drops of dew is weeping, 
Then my soul is feeling 
Qod's great presence stealing 
Near to me. 

"As the shadows come and go, 
When my heart Is shrinking ; 

When perplexed I scarcely know 
What my mind is thinking ; 

When life's troubles yex me so ; 
When all hope is sinking, 

Then my soul is feeling 

Ood's great presence stealing 
Near to me. • 

*'In the stillness of that hour, 
When life's breath will fall me. 

When my sln-slck heart wia cower, 
When my friends bewail me, 

In that chill of waning power. 
Then may love avail me 

And my soul be feeling 

God's great presence stealing 
Near to me." 

Before Michael Sears had finished, in the 
quiet of that room could be heard only his 
voice and the rustle of handkerchiefs; When 
he ceased, Mr. Tildon rushed forward 
towards him and exclaimed as he grasped 
his hand: 

"Brother Sears, my son, I have wronged 
you; forgive me!" 

"You are Just the man we want at the 
head of our Sabbath school," spoke up the 
elderly father, w'ith tears streaming down 
his face, as he took Sears' hand. 

"Can you forgive me?" asked Mr. Specu- 
lator, warmly shaking his hand; "I have mis- 
Judged you." 

"I move you," then cried out another, "that 
our Brother Sears be restored to his position 
as superintendent." 

"Aye! Aye! came a score of voices be- 
fore the motion could even be seconded, and 
all the members of the board rushed forward 
to take Brother Sears by the hand, except 
Mr. Willingworker and Dr. Chaser, both of 
whom had, before Mr. Sears had half com- 
pleted his plea, unceremoniously arisen and, 
like self-conscience-stricken beings, which 
they were, left the meeting and slipped out 
of the room. 

Then, In a broken voice, the elderly father 
began the doxology, "Praise God, from Whom 
All Blessings Flow," after which all in the 
room, including Mrs. Cloud, Martha Suther- 
land, Mr. Bates and Mr. Flyer, shook the 
hand of Michael Sears with the warmest and 
kindliest of congratulations, while Joy was 
beaming on ev%ry face and happiness was 
gushing from every heart. 

"Miss Sutherland," said Mr. Tildon to 
Prissie Mai, "I shall deem it a duty and 
shall be delighted to assist you with means, 
when you are ready to return to Boston." 

"Thank you," said she, In reply, "but I 
have saved sufficient from my own labors and 
am going to go home tomorrow^" 

"Then," said he, "take a message to my 
daughter, who is in your father's echooU 
and tell her as coming directly from me» 
that Michael Sears is all right" 

"I have told her that," she replied, "sev- 
eral weeks ago." 

Going immediately from the. church to the 
telegraph office, Mr. Tildon wired to the 
matron of the seminary: 

"Give Ruth all the letters which have 
come for her from Seattle; bar none." 



Words are not competent to express the 
joy which flooded the soul of Michael Sears 
when the board meeting broke up witii the 
doxology. Mrs. Cloud was so overjoyed that 
she, then and there, with a laughing pleas- 
ure, threw her arms around him, not realiz- 
ing what she did, she was so glad. Martha 
Sutherland laughed and smiled as she gazed 
into his radiant and beaming face and said: 
"I am so happy, so happy, you have come 
out all right." When Mrs. Cloud reached 
home that evening, as Lizzie came rushing 
up, she exclaimed: 

"Mr. Sears is going to be superintendent 
again, Lizzie, and your mamma Is going to 
Join the church!'^ 

"Oh, mamma! Dear mamma! Lizsie 
loves you! Lizzie loves you so much! And 
we'll all see papa some day!" cried the dilld, 
when Mrs. Cloud went away by herself and 
wept silently. 

Making his way from the church, Michael 
Sears went at once to the telegraph office 
and sent the following message to Ruth Til- 

."Dearest Ruth, I am vindicated at last; all 
Is all Hght. With love, Michael." 

That evening when Michael Sears went 
home, he was met by two very happy, happy 
people, awaiting his coming, and he was 
ushered into the sitting-room before the flre 
with a most genial and tender reception. 
Mrs. Cloud saw in him the realization of a 
true hero. When he had seated himself she 
said : 

"I owe more to you than I can ever ex- 
press; I never knew the noble <|ualitie8 of a 
Christian until I heard you speak this after- 
noon. And then, after we came home, moth- 
er telephoned up that the fever is broken 
and that Dick is going to get well. I am 
so happy, so very happy!" 

"You are only enjoying the peace which 
passeth all understanding, Mrs. Cloud," re- 
plied Michael Sears. Then he spoke to Liz^ 

"Come, dearie, let us have a good, old- 



fashioned romp, like we used to have!" And 
thus they passed the evening happily to- 
gether. Then, when the time came for them 
to separate, Mrs. Cloud had him take down 
the great Bible on the front room stand and, 
after he had read from the fifteenth chapter 
of the gospel, of St. John and offered a 
prayer, they retired. 

The following morning he found a tele- 
gram awaiting him at his office which read: 

"My dear Michael, I have received your 
letters and telegram. Thank God you have 
triumphed. I leave for Seattle tomorrow. 
Your loving Ruth." 

The next Sabbath the Sabbath school was 
electrified by the superintendent announcing 
that "on the following Lord's Day your 
former beloved superintendent, Michael 
Sears, will have charge of the school." 

Was that welcome news? Well, you 
should have seen the smile that went over 
that school and heard them all sing after 
hearing that announcement! It seemed as 
if they had Just found a long-lost friend, and 
their hearts burst forth in grandest praise. 
In the church service it seemed as if a 
divine blessing had Just fallen from the hand 
of God. A great enthusiasm and a wild Joy 
spread over the entire congregation. All 
were happy that peace had come to bless 
them again. Michael Sears was the object 
of all eyes. His triumph was complete. 

The next Sabbath Mrs. Cloud united with 
the church and Lizzie with her— happy, smil- 
ing, Joytul Lizzie! And in the Sabbath 
school! Over three hundred were present! 
Ruth Tildon, too, was there, and her voice 
was heard leading the singing! Such sing- 
ing! The children seemed to be inspired 
with song, and the music made the walls of 
the dear old building fairly shake with 


When the Hon. Richard A. Scratcher was 
well enough to receive visitors, Mr. Sears, 
with Mrs. Cloud, was among the first to see 
him. Through his mother he had learned 
all about the doings of the past few weeks, 
and said, as his visitors came in: 

"Michael, I am so glad that you were not 
ruined; and that all turned out so well." 
Then Blanche came in — Blanche, who had so 
tenderly and faithfully helped nurse Dick 
back to life again, and she, looking into Mr. 
Sears' eyes with a great light of Joy and 
gladness beaming from her countenance, ex- 

"And while you triumph, so do I! Dick 
has promised to marry me as soon as he 
gets well, and father has already consented 
to drop the case." 

'Just as soon as I am well enough," said 
Dick, looking over at Mr. Sears, when he 
continued, "And, Michael, I want to settle 
the note case I have with Jennie." 

"No, Dick," broke out Mrs. Cloud, "I have 
thought different; I will free you from it all, 
and you can give the money over to 

"Jennie, I. cannot do it that way; it is a 
debt of all debts, which I owe first above 
everything else," he explained, "and I will 
pay it — I certainly will." 

"Then, I will give it to Blanche," she re- 

"You can do with it what you like," he 
replied, "but it must be paid." 

Then, when he grew better, he wrote a 
long letter to his aunt at San Francisco and 
explained all about the note and how he had 
misled his uncle and had him sign the con- 
tract. With his sister's consent he also told 
how Susan had forged his uncle's name to 
the note. He offered to make the prop- 
erty which he still held all back to the ad- 
ministrator and to sign a note to pay the 
balance with interest. He closed his letter 
by telling his aunt about his sickness and 
his going to marry Blanche. 

His aunt in reply wrote him and said that, 
as he had settled down now and was trying 
to do right, and as she had all the money 
she needed, she wanted him to keep what 
he had and be a good husband to his in- 
tended wife. Later, when the wedding really 
took place, she sent the couple a most beau- 
tiful and costly present 

It would be delightful to recount the Joy- 
ful and happy days which followed the wed- 
ding and the wonderful way in which the 
Hon. Richard A. Scratcher succeeded and 
prospered from the day of his marriage to 
Blanche Matterson, but the ilile in such 
cases is quite well known. 

"Jinnie," said Mrs. Scratcher one day, 
after her daughter had- become a member of 
the church, "be ye afther marrion agin? 
Sure an' Lizzie be lonesome, an' th' loikes 
uv Misthur Sears wad be th* mahkin' uv a 
gude husban'! Be a-doin', Jinnie; be a- 

"But, mother," Mrs. Cloud replied, "I have 
Lizzie and Lizzie has me; we have money 
enough to live on, and more; and with the 
memory of Wils. I can never get married 
again. I will have enough to take up my 
time in properly bringing up Lizzie. As to 
Mr. Sears, I love him, as a very, very dear 
friend; but, mother, no one can ever be to 
me what Wilson E. Cloud was!" 

"An, Jinnie," then replied the good old 
lady, "ye be tahkin' afthur yer own mammy. 


God bllas yel Ad' mar tb' brlnsln' oop uv 
LlzEle be a bllBBln' to ye. Ye alius wuz 
kolnd t' yer mammy, an' Llizle'i got tb' 
liOFt uv ye. God bliss Jlnnle! God bliss 

Was the debt ever paid on the churcbT 
Well, yeB. Hrs. Cloud paid It, and a tablet 
was placed in ttae vestibule which is to be 
seen there at this day, and the inscription 
thereon la: 

My Dearly BetoTed Husband 


UlB Wife 



As Ruth Tildon lay that afternoon upon 
her bed In the seminary at Boston, crying 
and longing for a word from her loved one, 
a knock at her door aroused her. Going to 
the door, she was banded a buncb of letters 
by the maid, who Immediately withdrew. 
Tbat bundle of letters were the missives of 
delayed love messages from Michael Sears. 
Wild emotions swept over the soul of Ruth 
Tlldos as she stood there for a moment, 
gazing upon them and recognizing the band- 
writing of the one she loved. With a beating 
heart she opened the package and read the 
history of his trials and troubles, written 
as be only could write. And, then, when 
she had concluded and was about to retire, 
abe waa thrilled with a most ecstatic Joy, as 
a special messenger brought her the tele- 
gram which her loved one had sent her. 

The glory of a victory Is never so sweet 
to the victor as It Is to those who have had 
confidence In him and followed him through 
the battles which he fought. So the happi- 
ness of Ruth Tildon was far greater and 
more delightful and of immeasurably more 
pleasure tbat night than waa the happiness 
of Michael Sears himself. Her ride across 
the continent to Join him was accompanied 
by one grand, continuing chorus of glorious 
victory; every thought ahe had was a paeon 
of praise and every emotion of her soul waa 
a symphony of ecstatic Joy. Her whole be- 
ing, ber boundless, loving heart, her quiver- 

ing, delighted spirit were all enveloped In 
the limitless and Infinite -bUaa which she 
anticipated at the coming reunion, when her 
Journey would end. 

Yea, Ruth Tildon waa re-united to Michael 
Sears, and the wedding which took place 
surpassed In grandeur all those which had 
preceded It in Seattle. Dick and Blanche 
were there. Mrs. Cloud and Lizzie, loving, 
happy Lizzie, were there. The Sunday school 
was there. All the congregation waa tliere, 
except only Mr. WIIllDgworher and Dr. 
Chaser, who were not there. Eiverybody 
smiled upon the Joyfulness of the occasion 
and every voice was tuned In laughter's key. 

The preacher? Yes, be was there; but the 
ceremony was performed by the father of 
Michael Sears, wbo had come from bis far- 
away home In Pennsylvania with bla wife, 
for that special occasion. 

The church grew and prospered. The sanc- 
tuary was filled every Sabbath and large 
congregations thronged its portals to wor^ip 
within Its sacred walls the living and ever- 
lasting God. A spirit of holy rlghtAousneaa 
went out from It and spread with Its mighty 
Influence over the multitudes within ttae 
city, in that city the gateway to the golden 
fields of wealth and treasure! BusinesB 
grew, commerce thrived, prosperity raised 
uj) many monuments to Its wonderful prog- 
ress, and Seattle became famed throughout 
the whole world as a mighty and powerful 

It might be Interesting to follow the rise 
and success of Michael Sears as a lawyer Is 
Seattle; it might be pleasing to read of the 
esteem fmd confidence In wblcb his fellow 
townsmen held him; It might be gratifying 
to note how he was lifted up to positions 
of trust and favor through the vot«8 of the 
people, until be reached the highest pinnacle 
of earthly fame and glory, but we will leave 
him with his loving, confiding, estimable 
young wife, surrounded with all the wealth, 
luxury and happiness which his good father- 
in-law, tbe Hon. F. A. Tildon, could provide, 
in a home where peace, harmony, happinesa 
and the infinite and abounding love of the 
Lord dwelt with him and abode. 

MafFy More Attends a Smoker 

By Pf.teb FiBtEV, 

Say, Princely — 


Did you ever attend a smoker? 

No; why? 

Well, 1 did. 

Tell me about it. 

A fool never feels at borne In tbe company 
of fools; however, tbe presence of a fool 
among wlee men affords gentle recreation. A 
tool to be pleased must be appreciated. An 
Inyitatlon was banded me several days ago 
aaking my presence at "an unusual gathering 
of the Pacific Order of Blowfllea"— a secret 
organization of many mysterious meanings, 
A successful boat holds gentle surprises In 
store (or tbe entertainment of guests; tbe 
greater the Hurprlaes, the more abundant tbe 
amusement. However, the invitation which 
I received was printed la blue-bottle green, 
signed by "Buzzing Bum, the biggest blower 
of the bay-window," and stated that my pres- 
ence was "desired at the Dirty Kltcben, 
where there will be abundant luscious cadav- 
er and sticky molasses for consumption." 

It is easy to translate a foreign language, 
but quite another thing to do so correctly. 
The assumptions of a student prove his lack 
of study. So, thinking that tbe language of 
the Invitation was merely a figure of speech 
used to conceal some pleasant hidden mean- 
ing, with a heart fiuehed with curloaitr and 
expectation, I made ready and lart evening 
at abont tbe hour of S o'clock sought the 
"dirty kitchen" of the P. O. B.'s and present- 
ed my credentials. 

The guest who early goes to dine, by wait- 
ing dims ere he can shine; or, who seldom 
drinks of banquet wine, goes early wben he 
goes to dine; or, who early goes to drinking 
bout, has few times been invited out; or, the 
guest who early goes to eat. Is one who rarely 
has a seat. It was but usual; I should have 
known It, but It did not come Into my mind 
until I reached the home of the P. 0. B.'s, 
and was very civilly advised by the blowfly 
bnizlng around the entrance, that the (east 
would not be laid until ten. 

"An appreciating guest will be on time," 1 
assayed to speak to the door-keeper. 

"Hey?" cried out the guard. 

"An anxioas hostees places too little con- 
fidence In her servants," I answered. 

"Huh?" ho grunted. 

"The folly of wisdom is made apparent by 

"Uy Ihroat 

I I«ll v«r 

uncalled for display ot itself," I replied. 

"Eh?" he queried, moving towards me with 
an Interesting expression on his face. 

Haste Is a convenience rather than a ne- 
cessity with a brave man. I immediately 
sought to convey my presence elsewhere 
without any special premeditated destina- 

Inclination Is tbe twin-sister of memory. 
Promptly at ten o'clock I remembered and 
again sought tbe home ot ue P. O. B.'s. Of 
course, I was a little uneasy until I found 
out that another blowfly had taken the place 
of the one I had previously met at tbe door. 
With a polite bow I was greeted. Before I 
could object my bat and umbrella were 
removed and I was ushered into the midst 
of a bumming multitude. 

"Mully More!" tbe usher called out; and 
Immediately the vast concourse, as. one per- 
son, arose and Inclined tbetr heads towards 

Tbe sincerity of society Is like a dog's 
friendship — never to be suspected. Tbe room 
was furnished In green with blue trimmings; 
a raised platform extended around three 
sides along the wall; a rostrum with over- 
banging canopy stood at the middle ot tbe 


wall on the fourtb side. To th« rlgbt of the 
rostrum was a table with a pile o( corn-cob 
pipes and two bnge bozea of tobacco upon It; 
to the left was a door partly ajar leading Into 
a room from which emerged sounds of Uvelr 

To show tlmldlt; is to Invite attack. With- 
out delay I hid myself In a large chair near 
the door, at which time the companj' sat 
down In unison crying out, 


A master of ceremonies la one who pro- 
poses something tor others to do which he 
would never think of doing himself, I was 
wondering where the goat was kept, when a 
gentleman stepped forward, having a huge 
axe in his hand with which he semi-geDtly 
tapped on a table and criea out, 

"Tou will now come to order!" 

The music of a singing cat on a windy 

all D 

night Is little appreciated, save during the 
lulls of the storm. By the merest accident 
one of the audience became unbalanced and 
fell from a chair which bad been Insecurely 
attached to the floor, and with the storm of 
applause that ensued thereat a lull followed, 
when the man with the axe was Leard ap- 
peal Ingly : 
"Will you please come to order?" 
Sympathy Is the product of weak nerves; 
or, as I meant to say, curiosity is the king of 
attention, while silence is the oflsprlng of 
excessive Indulgence. The piano started up 
and a boy with a feminine voice and a goat- 
cream complexion sang a tremulous love 
song. He was followed by another lad who 
looked like a pimple and eang with grunting 
satisfaction another love song. An applaud- 
ing audience Is often treated to a surprising 
encore. In this Instance, true to the fiction 
that the applause of adults weakens the un- 
derstanding of children and overbalances 

them, the fat boy who had just sung, stepped 
olf the chair upon which he stood and mount- 
ing the rostrum stood oh his head and bel- 
lowed the refrain: "An ox Is still an ox until 
he's butchered." 

A host who follows out a set program 
rarely holds a successful party. The Inter- 
est of an entertainment Is lost sight of when 
the wait between acts Is given up to conver- 
sation. While waiting for O'Noggen, the 
trl pie-ton gued orator, who amused his hear- 
ers by the limits of his pie-bald expression, a 
committee of blowflies settled around the 
stack of pipes and boxes of tobacco and the 
blue trimmings of the hall were soon lost 
sight of in the presence of many ringlets of 
thin, malarla-like haze that floated In the at- 
mosphere arising from an hundred gasping 
orifices Into which the handles an hundred 
corn-cobs loaded with smoking totacco had 
been with satisfaction stuck. 

Who thinks what he speaks at a stag party 
has little assurance of long life. A guest 
should never think at a social gathering; too 
many friends of the hostess are present. 1 
was on the point of thinking that It was 
time I went home, or elsewhere. I felt a 
creepy sensation beneath my vest. My 
throat-latch felt very, very loose. 

If one must think when out In society. It 
Is well to say nothing, even If one does look 
It — appearances may be excused, but words, 
never. Delicious cheese-sandwiches, crisp 
and dry, began to float on huge platters 
through the thickening clouds of hazy blue. 
Indistinct forms could be ssen attending 
them. A squeamish guest Is the bane of a 
banquet. A weak stomach by exercise be- 
comes strong, but the exercise should be 
chosen by the owner, not a stranger. Of 
course, the sandwiches smelled of tobacco 
smoke, but no one In the room was able to 
detect It. An unpleasant flavor can be over- 
come by an hungry stomacu, but a fly In the 
soup creates a commotion until released. I 
would not have Insulted the host by refusing, 
Eo I ate quite a number of sandwiches and 
soft pickles. Yet, how could I see where they 
came from? They must have come from the 
room at the right of the rostrum. 

The reasons for the arrangement of the 
courses at a feast are not to be conjactttred 
at until the day or week after and then with 
due deliberation. I never was so thirsty In 
all my life as I was after eating those crusty 
sandwiches and highly peppered plckels. A 
miniature bonfire fiamed up my throat; my 
mouth was cringling and shriveling into huge 
cracks from the heat; my tongue smarted 
and Itched— the pipe bad done that. The gas- 
jets seemed to be Jearlng tongues of flame; I 



was just upon the point of asking for a glass 
of water when 

Princely, wait; don't grow impatient; a 
fool's wisdom at the best has little logic, but 
much good sense. Who goes to a smoker 
should have a fearless complexion. The color 
of smoked meat does not always betray its 
texture. The suggestions of a guest compose 
the embalming process for friendship. I was 
about to suggest that eyen a glass of cool 
milk would be a delicious treat when 

Princely, the most delicate instrument of 
earth is conversation; when carefully and 
skillfully operated it causes great joy, but 
when roughly and Ignorantly handled it 
brings disaster. A scrupulous mind often be- 
gets a rude tongue. A teetotaler, like a small 
boy, should not try to put out a lighted fire- 
cracker by sitting upon it As I was about 
to say when you interrupted me, I never was 
so thirsty in all my life It was an eftort for 
me to breathe. I was too dry to weep. I 
was withering and shriveling up like dried 
beef. I was getting dryer every moment. 
Oh, a cool soothing lemonade would have 
been relished! At every breath I was drying 
mjTself with the smoke — inside and out* 

Scruples, like gum, are to chew, not swal- 
low. When I thought i would perish, I saw 
indistinct forms moving in the smoke-mists. 
I heard glasses clinking. *'Can it be mo- 
lasses, now?" I almost thought, but checked 

"Beer!" a voice near me exclaimed in de- 
lerious joy. The popularity of hope exists, 
because it is never realized and the truth 
found out I had never taken a drink of 
beer before. I never remembered the adage, 
"The first glass makes a man full; the last 
cannot"; because, however drunk a man is, 
he will insist that he only took one glass and 
a small one at that. 

"Drink," said a voice I could not see, as a 
tray full of glasses filled with an amber- 
hued liquid covered with sudsy white, paused 
before me. 

"Consideration should be given to a 
guest's character," I replied, asking in a 
gentle whisper, "Could you favor me with a 
cup of Mocha-Java coffee, two table spoon- 
fuls of Jersey cream and three cubes of 
sugar?" Indeed, I never felt so thirsty in 
all my life. 

"Take one!" urged the voice in the in- 
distinct foreground. 

"A gift not commensurate with one's mor- 
ality should be spumed," I replied, with my 
head buzzing in a fever. 

"Hey?" said the voice. 

"A bidden guest insulted, kills the pleas- 
ure of the feast," I answered. I was get- 

ting hotter and dryer all the time. 

"Huh?" the voice grunted. 

"The wisdom of a host is evidenced by hia 
desire to please his guests: the spirit of 
a feast should be to cater to the individual 
likes and pleasures of those bidden," I re- 
torted, my whole being sizzling and roast- 
ing with dry and burning thirst 

"Eh?" he ejaculated — I then remembered 
the voice — and then in a twinkling I found 
myself in a reclining position to which I 
dared not decline, on the fiat of my back, 
and a most blissful, cooling, soothing, en- 
trancing sensation was being experienced 
in the region of my throat. It was drink! 
I gasped. I sputtered. I choked. I drank. 
I gasped, sputtered, choked and drank again. 
I had never tasted such liquid before. Two 
glasses, three glasses, four, and I don't know 
how many more disappeared. My face was 
washed in it; my neck bathed In it. 

There are moments when one is perfectly 
willing to let others choose for him. I would 
have drunk oceans of that drink, if those 
around me had bidden. The vanities of life 
are when one is thought for rather than 
thought of. When I was again able to as- 
sume a sitting posture I concluded that 
the follies of life bear the precious fruits 
of wisdom. 

An inebriate's hours with recollection are 
full of bitter pain. I have faint recollec- 
tions of stories, songs, more sandwiches, 
more beer, and at the end a "clincher of 
old rye," most of which I enjoyed in a 
recumbent position as it appeared from the 
looks of my clothes this morning, whether 
by force or disposition, I do not remember. 
But I do know that I said, as they assisted 
me out of the building, 

"My spirits insist on rising within me!" , 

Even a good-natured wife will meet a 
drunken husband with a sharp voice. I am 
glad I was not married. As I went home — 
the night air reviving me a little — I mut- 
tered the questions, "Cadaver and mo- 
lasses?" "Dirty kitchen?" The mind de- 
lights to revel in the joys of past anticipa- 
tions, even though present conditions prove 
reality to be a fraud. On the last few 
hundred yards I stopped. When mind with 
thought is worn, the limb of strength is 
shorn. I leaned against a telephone pole. 
The wicked will be supported by the up- 
right. My head ached; my stomach turned; 
I groaned. "Hey!" "Huh!" "Eh!" I cried, 
grunted, and queried; then the answer came. 

An appropriate and complete answer is 
the most restful reply to a befuddled stu- 
dent's research. Luscious cadaver? As 
limberger is soft and fragrant; yes! Sticky 



molasses? As beer is slow to move and 

smeary; yes! Dirty kitchen? As my clothes 

and body exhibited; yes! Blowflies? Be- 

yond a doubt, yes! 

It may be amusing to speak in riddles, 
but it is not the ultimatum of joy to seek 
out an answer. When to a smoker strangers 

go, they should not wit nor wisdom show; 
or, when one knows not a smoker's way, 
'tis best that he should stay away; or, a 
smoker smokes who does not smoke, and 
makes a temperance man a soak; or, when 
curiosity invites, be wary where you spend 
your nights; or, a curious mind in ignorance 
learns only by experience. 


Horace, Ode One, Book One 

Maecenas, of a blood springing from royal veiner, 
O, protection for me, also sweet glory mine ! 
Those be who have delight, raising Olympic dust. 
Taming * nicely the goal, shunning the glowing 

Whom the nobly won palm elevates high. Indeed, 
So that, lords of the earth, sit they among the 

This, If Quirites, strive, moving en masse, to raise 
Him to office and fame, dignity's highest place ; 
That one. if he has stored up in his gran'ries 

Whatsoever is swept from the Libyan floors. 

Who holds pleasant to work ancestral fields, you 

Tempt with Attains* wealth, crossing the Myrtian 

In a Cyprian bark — timorous sailor he ! 

Dreading winder from southwest, batting Icarlan 

Talks the merchant of peace, seeking the rural 

But he, soon, is again fitting his vessel out, 
Having never been taught poverty's load to bear. 

[Note. — This poem is a tranarlatlon from the 

Latin and published because in the rendition the 

Latin text is followed almost literally and the 

metre is as it was written by Horace, In the 
original. — The Editor.] 

There's another who loves cups of old Massic wine. 
Taking day's precious hours ; one stretched where's 

green arbute; 
And, another, where starts, whlsp'ring, some sac* 

red stream. 

Camp and clarion notes, mingled with trumpet's 

Wars, that mothers detest, lift with delight a 


Then, the hunter, with mind not of his tender 

Stays out 'neath the cool skies, whether a hart Is 

Tracked by hounds on the trail, or should a Mars- 
ian boar 

Break from toils that were wrought finely, ensnar- 
ing him. 

Ivy, placed on learned browsr, lifts me to gods 

above ; 
Wildwood cool and the light dances of graceful 

Paired with Satyrs betakes me from the common 

If Euterpe withholds not to herself her pipe, 
Nor Polyhymnia disdains tuning the Lesbian lyre. 

But, just rank me among poets of lyric fame; 
Then, I'll strike out the stars with my exalted 

No Boodtlng In Early Day*. 

Hod. Thomu Burke, ol Seattle, not long 
aeo, KB8 in tbe city of Olympla on busi- 
ness and. having a few momenta to spare 
he took a saunter through the old part of 
town down along the waterfront. There he 
was seen by a friend, who accosted talm 
with the Inquiry: 

"What are you doing, Judge, down In 
this deserted part of town?" 

"Oh," pleasantly came the reply, "I was 
just looking over the old landmarks. In 
1876 Aunt Becky used to run the only 
hotel In the town, and we always put up 
there. The first legislature met In the 
Pacific Houee. I wilt never forget the In- 
tereatlng times we used to taaye." 

"There wasn't quite eo much boodllng 
then as now, was thereT" asked the friend. 

"Oh, well; there were not so many mem- 
bers," laughed the Judge, as he turned 
away to go back to tlie hotel. 

Williams and Hia Sage Hen. 

H. B. Creel, of Watervllle, is the giant 
joker of Eastern Washington. Last sum- 
mer, J. N. WlUlams, the sporting member of 
the real estate firm of O. A. Yancy-Wllllams 
Co., of Spokane, went up to Watervllle to 
tisve a bunt Creel and Col. John Buchan- 
an, the popular stage proprietor, arranged 
to give Williams a good time. After a day's 
work they returned with numerous birds 
among wblcb was a ten-pound sage hen, 
every minute of five years of age, and aa 
tough and wiry as the proverbial Job's tur- 
key, differing only In the fact that It was 

Williams rather liked to claim the big 
bird as hts quarry, and was proud to boast 
of being Ita slayer. Creel and Buchanan, 
although tbey bad shot more, had merely 
killed smalt, InalgnlScant fowls. In the eyes 
of Williams. Indeed Williams grew so 
Iwastful that when the three at last ar- 
rived at the hotel. Creel had concluded to 
take down the high-flying aspirations of 
Spokane's real estate magnate. 

Consequently, It was arranged with the 

colored cook at the hotel that he roast th9 
ten-pound hen In as attractive a manner as 
possible and serve It up for Mr. Williams 
alone, at the same time preparing acrveral 
three-month-old grouse to take the old ben's 
place If the victim made any outcry. Here 
be It known that Mr. Williams Is a very 
large, heavy-set man, of more than ordinary 
stature, with a deep, resonant voice so 
adapted to selling comer lots. 

At dinner, on came the favorite bird of 
Hr. Williams' choice. The aroma as It 
steamed In front of blm was exceedingly 
appetizing. The beautifully roasted and crisp 
tkln was a joy for a hungry man's eyes. 
The trimmings were all that a gourmand 
could desire. A broad smile of supreme 
gratification spread over the features of Mr. 
Williams, as he looked towards Creel on 
one side ot him, with a miniature fowl, and 
Buchanan on the other, with another. Then 
he called to the waitress: 

"Is this all tor met" 

"Yes, It's all yours— especially prepared,"^ 
answered the maid. 

Then, the grin ot satisfaction grew broad 
and deep. 

With a hem and a haw, Williams clawed 
and worked at the old, tough aen. Qreat 
beads of perspiration stood out upon his 
forehead. It was work, tedious and aggra- 
vating. He wondered bow so fine a looking 
bird could be so tough. 

"Are all sage bens this tough?" he ven- 
tured to ask Col. Buchanan, between chews. 

"Well DOW," slowly replied the Colonel, 
fearing be would laugh and give the Joke 
away, "you'll have to ask Creel; I'm not 
authority on those matters." 

"How about It, Creel?" he asked; but 
Creel was very busy talking to the man at 
his left, and didn't hear. 

However, Williams stuck to his hen like 
the death guard to a murderer and while his 
two friends were eating delicious, tender. 
Juicy grouse, he stuffed down old sage ben, 
dry and tough, until It was all gone. 

"Wouldn't you like to try a piece of 
grouse, now?" Creel asked, when the last 
mouthful of sage ben disappeared. 



••Well," grunted WIlUamB, 'l might!" 
Then the grouse which had been prepared 
for him were brought in. However, he 
only took two mouthfuls — the sage hen had 
so completely sufficed him— he had no room 
for more. He groaned as he viewed the 
luscious, sweet, delicious birds before him. 
Then the joke dawned upon him, and he 
blamed the cook (that black rascal), then 
the Colonel (that Kentucky blueblood), and 
finally Creel (that scoundrel without a con- 

So loud did the arguments become that the 
noise thereof reached the kitchen, when the 
cook, believing that Creel had betrayed him, 
got the hose out and stood to soak him as he 
left the place. 

The darkey waited until he heard the 
steps of the crowd and as they advanced 
around the comer of the building he let the 
water fly, which took effect principally upon 
Williams, who was on the weather side. 

"What the — !" exclaimed Williams, ''you 
black demon; what do you mean?" roared 
the infuriated Spokanite. 

"Deed, suh," explained the darkey in an 
assumed humility and broken tone. "I'se 
gwine to help youse wash dat sage hen 

Williams returned on the next boat for 
Spokane and has not mentioned hunting, or 
sage hens since. 

Unionism Hat Its Sorrows. 

Down at Hoquiam the unions have every- 
thing their own way. A barber shop need 
not expect to run for a minute unless it 
has the regulation label spread all over its 
front. Restaurants and tobacco stores, also, 
must be assuredly known as "union places 
with union made goods," or their success 
is nil. The shingle weavers have as strong 
a union as exists. The chief motto of this 
union is, "So many hours work, so much 
done and no more — otherwise discipline." 

At the Hoquiam Lumber and Shingle Com- 
pany's shingle mill among the packers there 
has been much rivalry and, as a consequence, 
in past times the plant held the record of 
having the swiftest packer, who was John 
Moore, with a record of 68,000 in one day. 

Clyde Harris, a young man, working in 
the same mill, envied Moore his reputation 
and believed he could outstrip him, so not 
long since he started in unannounced, to 
make a showing. At evening he had the 
phenomenal record of 74,000 to his credit 
end received a card punched full of holes 
tor his labor. 

Moore was chagrinned at the turn of af- 
fairs and brought the matter to the atten- 

tion of the proper officer in the union, who 
decided that Harris must be put, as punish- 
ment, to packing culls. This Harris refused 
to do, and he was discharged. 

Meeting Moore in the noon interim, Har- 
ris walked up to him and claimed he had 
an affair to settle, whereupon Mr. Moore 
received two black eyes amidst the applaud- 
its of the American members of the union. 

Now, Moore seems in favor of abolishing 
the amount limit of a day's work, so he can 
get his record back. Harris, however, claims 
he can never get it back and thus the matter 

Something Wrong. 

In 1855, during the Indian scare at Olym- 
pia, a surly and dangerous looking buck was 
arrested for committing some depredation, 
and ordered by the court to be confined and 
held for trial. He was then placed in the 
back of the old Cushman warehouse, and 
Jack Baldwin (a famous Indian hater), ap- 
pointed guard. ' 

For a number of days the Indian's guard 
was assiduous in the performance of his du- 
ties. On the fourth day, however, he came 
up town and, calling the Judge aside, very 
concernedly remarked: 

"I fear that Indian needs attenticm — his 
appetite doesn't appear to be good!" 

Thereupon, the magistrate with several 
others went down to examine Mr. Redskin 
and found him with nine plates of food in 
a semicircle before him as he leaned, 
propped up in a dark corner — dead. 

A quick burial and a dismissed case were 
the only results. 

A Peculiar Coincidence. 

During the Indian scare of 1855 many 
narrow escapes were had by settlers who 
were marked for murder by the treacherous 
Siwashes. Mr. T. S. Brown, of Olympia, re- 
lates that Wm. McLain was a marked man, 
but owed his escape to a marvelous coinci- 
dence. The Indians had surrounded his 
house. He was out in the garden with 
several squaws digging potatoes. One of 
these klooches he had especially befriended 
and he noticed that she had left two hills 
undug, whereupon he called her back to 
complete her work. 0)ming back, she told 
him of the plot and his danger. Looking up, 
he saw the uselessness of flight — he was al- 
ready surrounded. 

At this Juncture Mrs. McLain appeared 
at the door with a gun in her hands, ready 
for action. She was a sure shot and the 
Indians knew it and feared her. Without 
making any move, believing they were dis 



covered, the fellows precipitously lett. 

RunalDg Into tbe bouse. Mr. McLaln asked 
tie wite why she bad not shot tbe villains 
Khen she had tbe chance. She looked 
amkzed when he told her what the truth was. 
«Dd explained that she had merelx gone to 
the door to take a shot at the birds which 
were stealing the cherries. 

Teated Courage Anyway. 

When Olympla waa all torn up during the 
Indl&n scare ol 186S, a fort was built and 
all the weak and willing put In It for safe 
keeping, whenever a reported advance of 
the enemy was on tbe tapis. After having 
been rushed at one time Into tbe fort the 
people concluded to send out scouting par- 
ties to ascertain tbe exact strength and lo- 
cation ot the bloodthirsty savages. 

Dave Bumtrager was put In charge of one 
party, and another "tearless" white man In 
charge of the other. Then amidst the tears 
and anxieties of tbe women, the fellows 
strode forth. They were gone several hours, 
having found no signs of redskins, when they 
heard through the thicket tbe approach ol 
each other. 

At once each mother's son of them found 
himself beblud a friendly flr. No move was 
made for scMue time. Dark was coming on 
and two bodies ot scouts were getting very 
cervouB. Tbe suspense was terrible. Then 
each broke from battle array and ran for 
dear life back to the fort. 

Both parties reported "hundreds of Indians 

up on the side hill." So aroused were all 
that signal fires were lit calling in the set- 
tlers from the country surrounding. 

One old fellow, who had been listening 
carefully to the stories of tbe scouts, asked 
them to give him the exact location which 
they had thus far overlooked. By compar- 
ison, the truth dawned upon the crowd. Jeera 
took the place of tears, and tbe signal flres 
were at once put out. 

"It was a good thing they were too cow- 
ardly to shoot," remarked an old man in 
talking ot the affair, "or there would have 
been several white people to bury." 

Overcrowded With Kickers. 

There was a young fellow from Missouri 
not long ago who was living at Everett, 
making his home at the Monte Cristo Ho- 
tel. He had a sort of sapped out dyspeptic 
look and didn't care for anything except to 
eat, drink and sleep. One day, as he put 
down bis gullet enough tor two men. be 
languidly leaned back and exclaimed: 

"I tell yuh, this beah country is no place 
tur uh white man; since I've been heah mah 
stummick has become all ulcerated an' the 
fog hurts mah eyes!" 

"Why do you stay here?" asked a drummer 

"Ah, because Missouri is overcrowded." 
he drawled out 

"With mules?" was tbe quick retort. 

"Yep. with mules," replied tbe felkiw. 


Id the complex and intricate tabrlc ol so- 
ciety the most destructive element ot peace 
and bappiness is tbe daDseroua woman. 
Tltis woman la not fallen and branded with 
the scarlet symbol of ahame, nor does she 
come trom among the outcast She Is an 
Invited guest In the halls of high social cii^ 
clee and her presence Is seen at the feasts 
and In the games of the high and mighty. 

Her evil work la known and condemned, 
but becauae of her brazen eOronteir and 
gall, no one desires to take the responsibility 
ot combatting her power which la aeemlngly 
overwhelming. This woman under the 
cloak and protection of the worthy poat- 
tlon she holds In the circles of the decent 
and good, although she has a huaband and 
family of her own, teases the husband of 
another household for attentions and service 
which he owes to his own, thereby robbing 
a Qreslde of Its life and Joy and destroying 
a home's light and happiness — purity and 

At other times the dangerous woman, liv- 
ing under the shadow of a church or holding 
high, official position In the societies of her 
sex. opens her parlors to the company of 
bright and attractive youths, which she 
gathers around her as the candle does the 
moth, leading by suggestion and the permte- 
sion of Improper advances until young man 
after another Is led through the secret door 
of an evening's stolen hour, out from the 
sate premises of right Into the broad high- 
way of conscienceless evil. 

When the dangerous woman flnda her 
powera of attraction waning, Id order to hold 
her place as leader of a social world, con- 
structed upon the vicious foundations and de- 
praved Instincts of her own making, she In- 
vites around her beautiful and attractive vir- 
gins. These girls are willingly permitted 
by ambitious mammas to visit the house of 
the dangerous woman, for vo harm can come 
to them there, and they will feast upon rare 
opportunities of social position. 

Thus the door to the sbeepfold Is opened 
and the wolves, heinous, bloodthirsty and 
wild, with foaming, angry Jaws, are given a 
feast of sweet, pure, tender and luscious 

lambkin flesh. Then la the ruin of the aonl, 
and, as the destroying demon grimly gacea 
at the harveat ot sorrow which Is belmr 
gathered In her flelds, she smiles with a 
flendish grin. Even when a poor girl rushes 
to her with a tale of regret in a flood of 
scalding tears, she mocks the sorrow, and 
advises a recurrence of the wrong! 

The dangeroua woman! While ahe is 
fostered and protected, will the world have 
woe and ruin. 


The granting of rights and privUegas to 
woman is not her emancipation. No law, 
cor legal right can place in the great heaut 
ot the people a condition wherein woman 
will and can be free. To place her in the 
eyes of the law upon a status co-equal with 
man, means to heap upon her ahouldera 
burdens of the man which she must cany 
In addition to her own. Instead of liberty 
It la a more complex and harassing slavery. 
When the world is willing to grant aodal 
forglvenesB to the woman as the man; vhva 
the man will not live to dominate, but seek 
to elevate the woman; when trom the cradle 
to maturity the woman will not be watched 
and advised for her own good, while tbe 
man grows up any old way; when woman 
overcomes her spirit ot severe strlctnrea 
upon an erring alster, then will the world 
be ready for the liberation of woman, then 
will come woman's emancipation. Adam 
blamed Bve tor sin; Eve blamed the ser- 
pent. Today, the man condemns the woman 
tor hla sin; tbe woman, who ought to be 
loved, cared for and forgiven, has no ser- 
pent to blame — so she weeps in silence the 
bitter tears of her secret sorrow and exists 
in slavery as wretched as it ia Irkaome— as 
galling as It Is undeserved. 

It man were noble and true, woman would 
be pure and undeflled; It man were the 
creature his Creator made him to be, woman 
would be free as it is meant she should. 

How often Is heard tbe phrase as one 
leaves another, "Be good." This Is aa silly 
as It is useless. If one esteems and honors 
a friend or acquaintance, that person cer- 



tfJnly knows the party will "be good" with- 
out being told to be so. In fact, one cannot 
as an act "Be good." One can "do good/' 
and as a consequence "be good/' but as an 
act he cannot shape his person or arrange 
his condition for good, or evil. He can only 
direct his efforts towards bringing about a 
good condition. Be good! What a play on 
words! How silly, indeed! It is very much 
like playing a mouth harp as an accompani- 
ment to a pipe organ. It is Just a filler 
thoughtless people ring in, when they haye 
nothing else to say and do not want to go. 
Might Just as well say, "Spit over your 


The man from Missouri is reported to 
have said, "Show me," before he acted. 
This has been demonstrated by the pure 
legislation upon the food question, espe- 
cially such articles of diet as necessitate 
"risin' " qualities. It seems that the baking 
powder trust would not trust the "honah" 
of a modem Missourian legislator, so it 
takes the Lieutenant-Qovemor into its coun- 
cils and hires his aid. Then the biscuit- 
fed dyspeptics of "Missooree" paid the extra 
expense, not only to the trust direct, but 
indirectly by way of grand Juries and court 
costs, penitentiary expenses and such ac- 
companying luxuries. 

The man from Missouri might well now 
say, "Raise me." It seems he has already 
been knocked down to a most distasteful 
condition of self esteem and will. Now, 
it can be expected that he will "show the 
world" he is the "trust buster" he has all 
along claimed to be. It is the famous, hon- 
est (?)*, pure (?), Royal (!) baking powder 
trust which the Saturday Post, from sleepy 
old Philadelphia, so extolled for their suc- 
cessful methods of advertising and doing 
business. It may be the political trust next, 
if the lobster-like phiz of Senator Stone, as 
he explains vehemently, is an example. The 
hotels of St Louis might, also, be watched. 
But most important of all, the man from 
Missouri should consider well (as should all 
other men), the size, calibre and genuine 
worth of the one his vote elects to public 


The selfish man or body of men usually 
get Just what they have planned to unload 
on others. The little fellow who sniffies and 
snarls at little things never has time to 
satisfactorily look after the large affairs as 
he should. When a man gets so wound up 
in himself that he has no time to cater to 
the demands of others regardless of who or 

what they are, be soon has himself to take 
care of and fails. In this regard it has been 
hinted that much business which would nat- 
urally come to Seattle is being diverted into 
other directions. Because of this, conceited 
and arrogant merchants who have swelled 
themselves up with the idea that people 
"have to buy at Seattle" are looking for a 
soft place to light. The time is here to 
look conditions fairly in the face and con- 
front them with courage and magnanimity. 
It takes manly men to do so. Other people 
are as enterprising and progressive as thosi^ 
in Seattle and dealers in other places are 
as fair and honest. The hour has arrived 
for the grafters and barnacles to be cleaned 
from the keel of the ship of commerce and 
trade, and have the craft put in shape for 
swift and sure action. Liberality and cour- 
tesy must be shown, and the big-mitt hog 
butchered for the benefit of the lean pigs 
in the sty, else there will be no porkers to 
fatten for the next killing. The question 
is, "Why so selfish?' 



It makes no difPerence how big or how 
little a fellow is, he has a legitimate place 
in the forest of human trees, else he would 
not be planted there. Of course, he may be 
beneath the shadow of a large and spreading 
monarch of the forest, but he has some 
ground and, if he sinks the roots of his 
determination and efforts into the soil he 
commands and is content to wait and grow 
as the laws of the natural world meant he 
should, HE CANNOT FAIL. 

Don't give up, my friend, even if the place 
does seem dark and gloomy. Hold on and 
do the best you can, and soon the overtow- 
ering tree will grow its size and die — then 
the bright sunshine and the warm rains 
of prosperity will come directly upon you. 
Don't give up while there is life. Be strong 
in hope and faith and live while there is 
life — a mere existence means failure and 
death. Act, act, act; do, do, do; never 
give up, but hold on until the end with grim 
determination and grit The man who does 
and keeps on doing NEVER FAILS. 

Don't give up. 


Nothing is so much, and yet so little con- 
sidered as a college education. It has be- 
come a matter of ridicule among many of 
the professions that the college graduate 
knows no more about the practical matters 
of life than a cow does of churning butter, 
while those same professions have success- 
ful practitioners who can only attribute 
their successes to their college education. 



At college is found the Bystematic training- 
school of the mind; there is where the op- 
portunity is presented to dive deep into the 
volumes of history wherein are recorded the 
achievements, disappointments, hopes, fail- 
ures, exploits and lives of nations and their 
leaders, showing to the mind, which is ever 
ready to imitate, how another reached the 
highest pinnacle of earthly existence, or 
how and why he failed; there is where 
the rudimentary and fundamental princi- 
ples upon which all auxiliary action is based 
can be studied unto perfect understanding; 
and there, and only there, is where the nat- 
ural endowments can be drawn out and ex- 
panded and the awkward genius can be re- 
fined and polished beneath the influence of 
culture and education. 


In the Manila Freedom the following 
well-written and excellent editorial appear- 
ed in a recent issue. Coming as it does, it 
has a breath of truth about it which is 
stranger than the poetic dreams of the vis- 
ionary dupes who think China is gone, for- 
ever gone. China will awake, and is now 
being taught tricks by the very ones 
against whom she will turn them at no late 
day. The Freedom says: 

The rumors that have circulated freely Id Manila 
for the past two months to the effect that the 
Boxer hordes were preparing to make things un> 
pleasant again for the foreign devil seem to have 
some confirmation in the fact that the three lit- 
tle gunboats from Cavite have gone north with 
picked men and heavy guns. China is almost 
always seething with some kind of political dis- 
order. It is like a South American State in that 
respect. The difference is that the South Ameri- 
can State overthrow&r its government as a result 
of its Insurrections ; China's guvemment rolls over 
and snores again. 

China is hard to awaken. Such a horde of 
armed men sprung from the soil in 1900 to crush 
out the foreigner as never before opposed itself 
to a civilized army. The whole civilized world 
shuddered at the awful possibility of the victory 
of the Chinaman. China, however, did not awaken. 
It was only the spasm of a nightmare for her. 
The Allies plowed a bloody furrow from the coast 
to the northern capital, razed one-third of Pe- 
king sacked the sacred Forbidden City and 
stamped through the hidden holy places in their 
heavy hobnailed boots, but China only murmured, 
like Thor in his dreams, "Did an acorn fall on 

China will awaken some day. She went to 
sleep more than a thousand years ago, a civil- 
ized nation. Her scroll&r were rich with the lore 
of the centuries that then were hers. She was 
the center of the civilization of the world. Out- 
side were nations Just emerging from barbarism. 
As such she remembers them in her dreams. 

When the voice speaks that shall arouse China, 
will she awake in good or bad humor? Most 
statesmen fear the latter. China's bad humor can 
be very bad. In the young nations that have 
grown to full stature about ner will she see her 
younger brothers and sisters educated and ad- 
vanced beyond the point where she was when she 
lay down to sleep ; or will she see creatures who 
are best described by her comprehensive term, 
"foreign devils?" It isr the doubt on this point 
that makes the nations hesitate to break in too 
rudely upon that slumber. 

The signs of the termination of tha great sle«p 
are not wanting, in the past half century China 
has thrashed about and cried out more forciMy 
and frequently than of old. The symptoms of 
disturbance increase as each year goes by. Since 
the Boxer, trouble of 1000 there has t>een no pe- 
riod of repose. 

It behooves Christendom — and enlightened 
heathendom, too — to stand prepared for trouble. 
China will prove no sleeping princess. In her 
nightmare ravings she gave civilization a liard 
wrestle. What will she do, when, awakened and 
alert she looks ail mankind in the eye and sees 
in every nation a foe? 

It is well enough for Russia to mobilize, ships 
in A^atic waters to check the ambitious impolses 
of Japan, and for England to concentrate her navy 
where it can checkmate the scheme of Russia or 
Germany, and for Uncle Sam to set his middies 
to guarding the "open door ;" but the time may 
come when all this demonstration of naval 
strength will avail for other purposes than for 
the powers to sink each other's ships. The past 
three years have seen the nations fighting side 
by side against the Yellow Peril. What has hap- 
pened may happen again. 


One cannot help but notice upon reflection 
how absurd is the theory that science and 
the Bible, or that learning and the Bible 
are diametrically opposed to each other. 
Some are so fanatical as to insist, quotins 
from the Bible, and aver that, as Adam 
and Eve ate from the tree of knowledge and 
were estranged from God so now by invest- 
igating the mysterious processes and forma- 
tions upon which the world and its inhab- 
itants exist, they are drawn away from 
their Creator to forget the Maker of us all. 
Do such people forget in their sanctifica- 
tion that it was man's education and learn- 
ing that has for these many ages past 
preserved in 'Siting the precious truths 
in the Bible contained? And who doesn't 
wonder at the sound theological doctrines 
expounded by Socrates who argued from the 
evidence in nature in proof of an infinite 
and everlasting God? Why, every geologi- 
cal specimen examined, every flower that 
is analyzed, ever^ chemical action that is 
investigated, every new star that is discov- 
ered but magnifles the everlasting exist- 
ence of an infinite omniscient power and 
spirit that controls it all, and leads the en- 
terprising student to that conclusion. 


The true religion of life is to live happily. 
All codes of morals are rules for better liv- 
ing; "better," meaning a condition of more 
contentment. Bliss, were it to be reached,, 
is a state of complete fulfillment of desires 
and wishes with no possiblity of want. Hap- 
piness is a condition of bliss. True religion 
treats of its achievement and fulfillment 

Adoration is the highest degree of ex- 
perienced emotions or sensations one may 
feel for another and is of a devotional na- 
ture sprung from a feeling of gratitude for 
some service or gift. It is a living desire 



put into action to show by some deed or 
service true appreciation. Adoration can 
only be expressed towards a being con- 
sidered higher, greater, nobler, better than 
the one experiencing it. Adoration is super- 
lative love. It is perfect. It is sweeping. 
It is complete. Those who adore reserve 

Love of God is adoration; it is worship. 
If a soul experiences the existence of a 
Supreme Being, it knows the Creator and 
stands in awe and reverence for His works. 
Not only this, but a believer in God believes 
in the personal existence of God, who 
blesses or condemns, who gives or with- 
holds, who is the author and finisher of all 
good thoughts, acts or deeds. 

God is a spirit and is the essence of truth 
and * right. He manifests Himself to the 
eyes of men by the acts of those who truly 
believe in Him; who do right, not because 
they fear the penalties of doing wrong 
or seek the favor of those around, but be- 
cause the doing of right in itself is a pleas- 
ant and natural act both for the one to 
whom directed and the one from whom 
emanating; who is true, not to reap the ap- 
plaudits of a silly mob, or to shun the ad- 
versity and scorn a liar and deceiver ul- 
timately receives, but who is true because 
of love for the one he would not betray. 

The one who is true and righteous, in 
fact, has the Spirit of God living in him, 
manifesting Himself to men. Such a p6rson 
is loved by those around because he first 
loved them. They know he loves them 
because of his treatment to them. There 
is no cheating, no lying, no malice, no 
hatred, no wrong in the daily intercourse 
between the one who loves his fellowman 
and him whom his fellow men love, because 
they live and act, be and do in the spirit 
of truth and right. 

Hence, if one loves God, he will do the 
acts of God and, if one does the acts of 
God, he will treat his fellowmen fairly and 
impartially in truth and righteousness. 
Truth, because of the very work's sake; 
righteousness, because of the pleasure, the 
Joy, the happiness, the contentment, the 
satisfaction, the bliss it brings. 

Love is life; it is the essence of service 
and action, it is the power of obedience 
and law. Love burns its way into acts 
and deeds. Love cannot be stified. Pure 
love, true and unadulterated, is experienced 
from God and to Him by His believers. 
When a being loves God, his life is filled 
with the Spirit of God and, as he loves 
God, he also loves his fellowmen. Thus the 
axiom, the love of God is the love of man. 


Be kind, gentle and affectionate to your 
wife, old fellow, and you will enjoy the full 
and complete delights of a happy home. Do 
you not know that patient, nervous little 
woman is wearing herself out for your 
comfort and doing everything in her power 
to cut down useless expenses to help yon 
along? She has fretted and worried her 
anxious mind and body to prepare a meal 
for your dyspeptic and unruly appetite. Her 
face Is flushed from working over the hot 
stove and doing a heavy ironing. She is 
tired; she is weary. When you reach home 
please do not look as barbarous as a Hin- 
doo Jungle or as uninteresting as a dusty 
sage brush plain. Just go up to that little 
girl; take her in your arms, and hold her 
to your bosom. You may be surprised to 
notice how weak and frail she is. Then, 
whisper in her ears the words you so often 
repeated, like a Bramin's praying machine, 
before she promised to be yours. Look into 
her face with fondness and tell her, "Sweet- 
heart, little darling, I love you." Perhaps 
you have forgotten — if you have, your Joy- 
will be great, as you behold her hungry 
heart feast upon the message spoken. Then 
do as you have said. Don't degrade her 
and make her a slave. Love her and let 
her know you are happy, that she is your 


It is not the wealthy people who produce 
wealth or scatter the blessings of prosper- 
ity from their garners or treasure houses 
over the earth. This is true because, the 
possession of much so consumes the atten* 
tion of the owner that no time is to give to 
extraneous matters. "Show me how it will 
increase my business and I will talk to 
you," or, "point out how I can make a dollar 
and I am with you," speaketh the general 
run of rich men. Such people lavish money 
upon their personal comfort and spend free- 
ly to cater to their own vanity and pleas- 
ures, so long as they are in the lime-light, 
but when another outshines them they will 
no longer play and crabidly and foolishly 
run to hide amidst the beautiful lonliness 
and selfish wakefulness of their own empty, 
quiet mansion. 

The common people, the middle classes 
of whom the rich get their increment, are 
those who do. Such build churches; such 
push forward public enterprises with a good 
, round sum at the head of the list; such put 
their shoulder to the wheel and advance 
public improvements; such help the poor by 
employment rather than cold charity; such 



share the enjoyment of their homes with 
others and live in the parlor as well as in 
the kitchen; such take time to ciylUy meet 
a stranger without compelling him to cool 
his heels in the anteroom while they wonder 
if the fellow has yellow or black hair; such 
are the salt of the earth, they are those who 
make life for each other worth living, they 
fight their country's battles, they carry the 
burdens of humanity, they build towns, 
states and countries, they have friendships 
because they are friends, they constitute the 
wealth producers, they are because they do, 
they do because they are able, — all credit 
to the common people. 


Good times are ever the opportunity for 
unscrupulous and pernicious fellows to 
fieece and Job honest people who would 
rather run the risk of loosing all to make 
a cent, than patronize home industry. As 
soon as the days of pinching begin then the 
activities of the grafter and jobber de- 
crease. The young man, who has studied 
medicine and equipped himself better than 
any one else in the town for activities in 
that profession, to many is only "George;" 
yet those "many" will buy quack remedies 
and patronize traveling doctors and increase 
in the quantity of their ill health. When 
their money is gone and hope gone, they go 
to "George" as a last resort. A man may 
try to start a banking business in his own 
town. He is scoffed at He loses his money. 
A hot air machine starts a bank and the 
scoffers lose theirs. In good times many 
swindles are worked because the suckers 
have money to spend. A stranger is trusted 
because he promised big results; and don't 
have to live out his life before you day 
after day; your friend and neighbor is 
turned down because he told you the truth. 
Yes when the grafter opens out his shell 
game you can know prosperity is abroad 
— he does not operate for nothing. 


In this day of lavish and extensive adver- 
tising the question arises "Who pays the 
bill?" If a person thinks the merchant is 
doing so, his is far from the truth. The 
fact is that advertising is done to increase 
business and stimulate buyers to spend 
when otherwise they would not and this is 
accomplished by misleading and deceiving 
lies which are flashed in big letters before 
the gaze of the unwary. Either a purchaser 
gets a good article at a price with the ad- 
vertising expenses included; or, obtains an 
inferior and shoddy article at the price of 
a good one. Often one line of goods is 

sold at really honest prices; but, when the 
customer has bought that, a flim-flam article 
is shaved onto him and he pays for the ac^ 
vertisement A good rule is to beware of 
the goods of a big-horn and mfich-noise mer* 
chant, who is making a hurricane racket 
to divert attention while he gulls the public 
and cheats an unwary buyer. These three- 
card monte business men are shrewd and 
cute and it is no fool notion to conclude that 
they are in business to make money. Bvery 
time an advertisement offering something 
for nothing appears, it is the statement of a 
liar and a cheat. Those who believe they 
are getting the best of the dealer are dupea 
and fools and they are the ones who pay 
tne freight and advertising. 


The Yakima Herald prints the following: 
"The Seattle preacher who married a China- 
man to a woman of the under-world might 
have been in better business, especially in 
view of the fact that he understood the 
woman's motive in contracting a marriage 
destined to end in the divorce court six 
weeks later." 

Such an item is a disgrace to any com- 
munity which supports churches and schools. 
It lays bare an innate depravity to gloat over 
something lewd and a base desire at any 
opportunity to give a stab in the dark at 
the only lasting champion of civilization 
the world has ever had — ^the church. Now» 
Mr. Editor, name your man; don't be a 
coward and slink behind innuendo and possi- 
bly a lie. Come out and we will go after 
him with you. 


C. H. Williams, editor of the Winlock 
Pilot, often grows very funny in his local 
columns, and sets the young people of his 
part of the state agog with anticipation of 
what is coming next. He is no blackmailer, 
however. Here is some of his latesf'^d 
choicest wit: 

"We understand that a young lady and 
gentleman indulged in a cake-eating contest 
at the dime social the other night Sixteen 
slices of cake apiece and eight cups of 
coffee! Holy Moses! No wonder they were 
both sick the next day and couldn't work. 
Though almost in the last throes of death, 
hopes are still entertained for their recov- 
ery. The unfortunate affair has cast a deep 
gloom over the entire community. Sixty- 
*flve cents apiece! Moral: Be careful, boys, 
and never marry a delicate-looking girl, or 
it may keep you Jumping sideways to keep 
provisions in the house.' 



TblB depBTtment li fai the contributor and tbe 
InqnlsltlTe. Of eoane, It li not iireaumed tbat all 
who ask qacatloni aliall or can be aniwered. That 
depends verr mneb upon tbe question. During 
the past week, for InstBDM, tbe editor received 
tbe following question : 

"la tbe aathor of The Trlumpb of Michael 
Seara' n msa or a woman?" 

It Is Ttrj dincult to make sucli a reply as will 
not do some damage to tbat autbor's reputation. 
Many people believe tbe writer to be a man : 
others are read; to swear tbe persoo Is a woman. 
If the truth were told openW man)' people would 
feel aggrleTed that their jadgmeDt had led them 

Another question wblcb was sent In unsigned, 
ondated and witbout a town was tbls : 

"la a man who lives In Cape Cod a Bore?" 

Indeed, the question looks simple and li plalnl; 
•tated, but—well, what Is the use! It the one, 
who perpetrated It. would onl; acknowledge pater. 
alt7. It would facilitate tbe lalvlng of a coDun. 

Tbe following request waa received br an en- 
thusiast In amateur pbotograpbj : 

"Please tell me which Is best— a long focus or 
• abort focus?" 

Well. If we had the time and skill to weigh 
matters, we might arrive at some coocluslon In the 
matter, but as time Is fleetln^t and grub Is hard 
to digest, iinleBS properlj maBtlcated. we sent a 
peraonal reply to the Inqolrer, for which we 
received a foolscap sheet full of thanks and praise. 

These Incidents are given, not to discredit or 
make f<m of the senders, but to show In what an 
Intricate position the editor of tbls department la 
placed. There la tbls much about It, bowever. 11 
the hard.beadi and tblck-akulls In the Northwest 

Behold tbe literati of the great Northwest 1 Tbe 
■tiff-neck brigade of conceited scribblers and mer- 
cenary writers who are aboia giving notice to tbe 
Coaat Literary and Art Club ! TJgh 1 When their 
teredo-eaten piles upon which they stand fall 
from beneath them, they will go down Into the 
aea ol oblivion and be lost forever. Not because 
ther do not patronlte tbe Coast Lltersry and Art 
Clnb, but because by tbelr non .participation In Its 
Beld of operation they betray their shallow and 
■elAah natures and prove tbe accuaatlon they are 
hirelings and not masters. 

One follower of writing, but not K wlelder of 
the pen, had the audacity of sending each month 
a postal card asking for sample copy of Thi 
CoasT, and grew wroth when the editor sent In 
reply copies ol tbe same Issue. The great trouble 
with many who write for so much per Is that 
they have ao much to authorize tbat they do not 
take time to think. 

A most amusing communication received came 
all the way from New York and after giving a 
complete biography and description, drew up In a 
hanghty conclnslon, and asked : 

"Now, do you tbink my stories ace from any 

Tbe trnlb Is. thst when we reached tbe con- 

clusion we were In no condition to think. We 
were paralysed. To be candid. It Is our boneat 
opinion that. Just because a person's name happen* 
to be spelled F-O-E. la no reason at all why what 
he may try to write should be called, "F O n try." 

There Is a little girl living on tbe Padllc Coan 
who Is a sweet, dear creature, wltb a nature aa 
clear and bright as a springtime stin. Kaeh month 
she sends the editor a cheery letter of hope and 
encouragement. Her hand writing la aa clear and 
regular as If typewritten. Last Month tbMre mea- 
sages of love sud good will ceased. Tbe editor, 
visiting In tbe town from whence they cams, con- 
cluded to hunt up the writer and learn why the 
ceaaatlon. He was astonlslied to find bis little 
friend to be a hopeless Invalid, lying at death's 
door. The short visit In that sickroom waa a most 
blessed experience. The sweetest flowers are 
those which live the shortest. 

Among other things which have reached the edi- 
tor's notice Is a bottle tied wltb a red, white and 
blue ribbon on the Inside of which was a paper 
with writing upon It, It was some time before 
courage sufflclent was gained to uncork tbe novel 
envelope. When such was done tbe foUowlns 
message was found : 

Upon uncertain seas 1 send tbls contribution 
and commend the one who reads It will recelva 
"" '"'"1 Judgment he may give. 

Tbe contribution was : 

^rlng, gentle sprl 
With Its 

?rliiB Is here 
lessage oF good cheer ; 
not like It so 

I, don't you know. 

When springtime Is fully sprung 
And the chestnut bell Is rung 
Then. I'll joke no more but be 
Summering down by tbe sea. 

lakes me dreamy and I hunt 
ill new schemes I can employ 
Editors to thus decoy. 

Bottled up I'll send v 
Some tool editor to view. 

Hipl Hurray, for giddy spring! 
Watcb her flap the chicken wing ; 
See her bust tbe buds and get 
Dainty, naked branches wet. 

Ob, of all the seasons, none 
Can outstrip spring's run of fun ; 
She's hot or cold and wet or dry 
And squints the winning goo-goo eye. 




The following questions and answers have been 
sent in from various members for discussion by 
siibscribers interested in tliis department. An- 
swers should be concise, direct and not to exceed 
a hundred words. Address communications to 
Editor the Coast Library and Art Club, 
The Coast. Seattle, Wash. 

Query 31. What is Poetry? 

Aner. Love and Poetry are so near akin that 
no one has ever been able to give a fully satisfac- 
tory definition of either. 

The dictionary definitions of both w^ords are 
cold, formal and stilted. They resemble the 
fashion plates of ladies. The form and coloring 
are there, but the warm breath, the beating pulse, 
the glowing eye, the heaving breast, the falling 
tear, the bewitching smile, the intelligent expres- 
sion and the living rythm of motion are all lack- 
ing. So when we say Poetry is a rythm, immigina- 
tive expression, flowing numbers, heroic hexamet- 
ers, word painting and sparkling, wit, humor, 
philosophy and heart-etchings In words, we get 
some idea of the form of Poetry. But, who can 
define the essence of Poetry and tell how its 
spirit gets down into the heart and life of the 
reader, and unfold to him visions of the deep 
things in human nature, that words cannot ex- 
press. Poetry, then, is that magnetic literary 
power that connects the spirit of the poet and 
reader so intimately that the reader feels the 
visions of the writer. — Thos. W. Musgrove, Mis- 
sion, W^ash. 

Query 32. Should historical writings be classed 
as literary productions? 

Ans. If the material comprehends merely a 
chronological statement of facts, it certainly hast 
no place among the archives of literature ; but, if 
the article comprehends descriptive sketches, dis- 
cussions and has language, it should be classed 
among literary productions. An epitome of events 
can be written by anybody who has the facter to 
be recorded at hand, but literature can only be 
produced by an author. 

Query 33. Has the United States a poet 

Ans. No ; but they have a host of common 

Query 34. Who made the most famous piece of 
statuary in the United States? 

Ans. Milton Powers, of Indiana, who sculptured 
the "Greek Slave" is attributed with that honor. 

Query 35. Are rebuses and riddles" literary pro- 

Ans. This seems to be like the lawyer's ques- 
tion to Christ — put merely as a sticker ; but, we 
are here to answer all kinds or questions, so here 
goes. In ancient times when the great white man 
was yet in the savage state he communicated his 
thoughts by means of pictures. Later, when he 
began to learn letters and make combinations rep- 
resentative of sounds which composed words, the 
old style was put into disubie. The new method 
was so complete and effectual that in time no 
one remembered exactly how the sign language or 
pictorial writings were understood. Then sprang 
up the practice of making puzzles to find out how 
much of the savage nature remained in the mind 
of man — thus was instituted the rebus. So cun- 
ningly were they devised and so elaborately ex- 
ecuted that, even, scholars, began to dabble In the 
scheme. Riddles are little more above the sav- 
age. They were first used by Idle scholars to 
make wit of the fools and by kings to scofflngly 
try the wisdom of ttome subject under royal dis- 
pleasure. They were shrewdly stated so that 
several answers might be given, but only one an- 
swer was correct. If the interrogated failed to 
give the correct answer, he paid the penalty, 
which was settled upon before the question was 
put. For my part, 1 do not consider them literary 

Query 36. Is the making of puns a form of 
classical writing? 

Ans. The making of puns has been and is 
merely a practice of fun and pleasure. It has 
become so common, however, that only "licensed" 

weak-minded people are permitted to perpetrate 
such atrocities. It is very much like putting 
rouge on the face of an old woman to make her 
look young and beautiful. The making of puns 
was indulged in by Cicero and all the old mas- 
ters. \es, the making of puns Is classical, but 
not in favor now. 

Query 37. Is there any set rule a perscxi can 
follow to become a famous wit and humorist? 

Ans. The writer does not believe there is. If 
there had been, he would have discovered it 
some years ago and now be on the shady side 
of easy street. If anybody has discovered such 
a rule they will confer a favor upon many over- 
worked editors who are compellea to turn down 
with incessent regularity the rot and twaddle, 
the slush and gabble, many a poor deluded 
student of correspondence schools and manu- 
script agencies sends in with great expectations. 
Here let it be firmly stated, these author's 
agencies are nothing but grafts and bilks of 
a most insidious and pernicious character. 
Loathsome and depraved schemers are at the 
head of them, as a rule who deceive and steal 
from the mortals they are leading on to filch 
and cheat. Behold, who with a gnQn of common 
sense would ever send a literary production to 
a mercenary at so much per and expect an 
honest return of worthy criticism or a single 
suggestion of worthy comment? This set rule 
business is a conceit and a snare, a vain delu- 
sion, as mythical as it is ingenious. Who says 
there is, is a liar, a scoundrel and a thief and has 
a motive. 

Query 38. Which would you advise a person 
to enter to become famous — painting or sculp- 

Ans. Both ; because if a person enters a line 
of work for the purpose of becoming famous 
he ought not to take any chances, but get into 
all the kinds he can. When such a pers-on be- 
comes famous the one mostly suprprlsed will be 

Query 30. Is logic the proper thing for a 
person to study if he intends to make a livins 
by writing funny paragraphs for the comic 
papers ? 

Ans. We think yes— the kind of logic which 
has a wide abundance of common sense ; such 
that when he has written a funny thing he will 
write no more until what he has written is 

Query 40. Is it proper to say "have got," or 
"have gotten?" 

Ans. It is correct to say, when speaking of 
procuring anything, "Get," "got," or "have 
gotten" ; if one means to convey the idea of re- 
taining. It is correct to say, "Have," "had," or 
"have had". 


The books of the month show a marked Im- 
provement over predecessors. The themes are new 
and the makeup more attractive and substantial. 
This is a good sign among the publishers and will 
no doubt be productive of better and larger sales. 
Book making from all standpoints is an art ; not 
a business and when artists feel the inclination of 
an inspiration excellence is assured. It seems 
thus now. 


Darrel, the clock tinker, is a new creation. Wit, 
philosopher, and man of mystery. Learned, 
strong, kindly, dignified, he towers like a giant 
above the people among whom he lives. In him 
Mr. Bacheller has given us a character as new 
and lovable as Eben Holden, but more fascinat- 
ing. Darrel's shop is an odd nook, where the 
reader will enjoy good companionship and be much 
at home. It is another tale of the North Country, 
full of the odor of wood and field. Its people are 
whole&x)me : it Is good to know them. Once in its 
mystery, the reader will go to the last word with 
increasing Interest. Wit, humor, pathos, and high 
thinking are in this book. Bound in red silk cloth 
and decorated cover. (Lothrop Publishing Com- 
pany, Boston ; price, $1.50.) 


ok Ib perluips better deacrlbed •> romBTitlc 
:taan hlstarlcal romance. It Is the glo- 
ol tUe pioneer, oarrated witb the utmost 

Eceded sad follow^ It. (With [roDtls- 

rhe following books hHTe been received 
' last iMiie. SDd vlll be Dotlced at length li 
t number of The Coast; 

"Father Uarquette." Ht Reuben O. Thwaltea : D. 
Applplon A Co. : price, tl. 

"Horace Greeler." b; W. A'. Linn ; D. Appl^ton 
A Co. : prW, 11. 

"Hidden Manna," br A, J. Dawson : A. S. 
Barnes A Co.: price, tl.50. 

"The[atee." b; Alice Preacott Smith ; 
HoughtoD. Mifflin & Co. : price, SI. 50. 

■The Lieutenant Ooyernor." bj Guj Wetmore 
Carrjrl : price tl.60 : Hougblon, MlCain A Co. 

"The Filigree Ball." by Anna Katherlne Green ; 
Bnggs-MerrlTl Co. : price, *1.50. 


E, E. Tajlor. Olympla, Wn. : Wm. C. Mommen- 
sen. Olrmpla ; Mrs. M, n. Flubbard, Olympla : 
Mrs. H. M. Reynolds, Olympla : E. A. Bacon. 
OlympLB : Mrs. H. E. Barr. Olympla : Alfred 
Thompson. Dlympla : J. R. Bolton, Olfmpla : C. 
Z. MasoD. Ulrmpla ; J. R. Dever, Olympla : P. 
M. Mtaye. Olympla. Wn. ; G. E. McKenile. 
Olympla : IV. W. BInghelroer, Olympla ; IIukIi 
Hob. Olympla : John Glenbam. Olymplft : G. W. 
BardBley. Olympla : C. H. Springer. Olympla ; 
J. W. RoMDRon. Olympla : O. S. Umpleby. Olym- 

8 la : T. I,. Brown. Olympla ; W. W. Hopkins, 
lympls: T. N. Allen Olympla: R. A. Crulkshank. 
Olympla : Cor Henry McBrlde, Olympla : M. J. 
Royal, Olympla, 

e poet 
II scratch'and acratcl 

He h 


Under the head ot "Spring Gardening." 
The Neios-Recorder. ot Franklin county, 
Waahlngton, prints & clfpplnK which starts 
oK, "First, the garden should be cleaned. 
Remove the winter crop ot tin cans and 
throw them over Into the next yard. El »eg." 
This seema nice to R. H. Colley, the editor, 
bat It really appears to a man in a flat 
that the first tblng might be tor the farmer 
to get tbe garden. E%? Colley, what do 
you think?" 

Are You Qoing East 

this summer? The Northern Pacific has 
arranged for special excurBlons during June, 
July and August at greatly reduced rates. 
Call on or write to I. A. Nadeau, G. A., Se- 
attle, for all particulars. 


L«ad« theiti AU 

THOROUGH s^'r 'r^""^ r™": 

STEADY '^^^^ 


The ACME is the place to eo. It 

= 8:uarantees positiona 

McLaren & Thompson 

Seattle, Taih. Prloelpalt 

E. N. T U -N 


. WAHlll.NliTON. 

Who IB UiIbT 

ThlB la a man. 

Wbat was heT 

He was a politician. 

Wbat wUl he beT 

King Countr'B next candidate. 


Because he wanU to. 

Wby does be want to? 

He knows, but will not tell. 

^flotel Braaswick*^ 

BdiIdcm Center. 

— Oae Block ttom Union Depot — 

J. J. CuDnlDgbam, Prop. SBATTLa, V. 8. A. 

Athlon. Inland Fljrer. 

Unly passenger ateamaUp Un* to 
the Puget Sound Naral Station. 


TRY V I R I 1.1 8 

KInsel Bros., Druggli 

Bent prepaid for fllty 

Seattle, Wash. 


— IHB— 



Ucn's Cubmere Tallorlnia, 

nuineli [•.. 

Domeitle Blaaketa. 
Mlnen' Blanket*. 


St. Pant, 
Bt. IMOU, 

When tbe soodi a 

I made op and r«-«Upp«d 

5. nd for Sample5 and Prices 



HIT First Are. BBATTLB. D. 8. A. 

Sewing Machines 

We have tbe "Standard," acknowltdfcd hj all 
to be tbe BB8T. We hare a Dumber of dlSar- 
«Dt makea ot abuttle maeblnea. We bay dtieet 
from the factor;. 

Yon bnj for one-balf the price tbat tewlnt 
macbiDea are aold for b; men wbo Miiplo; 
agcDta— tie. fie, t20, U* for new aewlng 

dine's Piano House, l2ffl 



Invite Ylallallon and examination ot tbelt 
mammotb and up-to-date store. 


Largeet larletT ol kinda and anal Itlea ot 
good! ever put on dlapla; In the Weat. 
Wilte or c«U wlttaoot delay, 


In answering AdvertissMsata pleaae mention Th* coast. 

Three Tree Point, a Summer Resort 

i.r* ao Bitnated 
M to ftcceuIblLl- 
t7 nnd deslrabll- 
lu u Ibe ooa 
of which thU la 

tute, uid oalj 
{oartMD mllea 
from both But- 
tle uid Tttcomk. 
Here U pore 

pools ' for bath- 
I n g J «icelleat 
boating ; r»ii. 
lar and reliable 
trim porutlan 
reaching to Seat- 

a moat magnlB- 
cCDt aurroDDd- 
lagt of Brand 
• D d Inai^ring 
Kraerr. The 
Olrmple Moun- 
talDB, Paget 
Bonod. tr«e-Btnd- 

read; popular re- 
■oit la that r- 


i Bol3 

W» give a ylew 
ol one of the 
cbarmlnx patb- 
waja through 

the park. There 
Are other aceoea 
M loTety. Pic- 
nic parties and 

the eompanr are T"*= pathway leamno thbouoh the pabk at thbxb trbb poiht. 

I., D. Lomnan 

prealdent ; B. Pell;, Kcretarr and treaaurer, C. B. Llvermore, manager. 

Thla eompanr. little more than a year ago, purcbaaed the tract of land at ttala place and, under 
the perronal auperrlaloD of Mr. LlTermore. began to prepare the tract tor those Id the nearby cities 

bnsloesa. Tbe paat year baa been occnpled In 
ig parka, roadv, waterworka and other matCera 
land here embracea 26T acrea and baa a beach 
pure spring ot water Is at one end of It, and 
water which auppllea the place. & winding 
from the leading, n-bere la malnlalDed a 

wbo desired nunmer bom^s v 

the work of aarveylng. grading, planning and bulldlni 

Incident to preparing It for habltallon. ' 

tf pure, clean sand extending lor five ml 

npoD the bill above Is a lake ol eicelle 

driveway of the old English etyle haa b 

do^ Dp the incline through tbe natural park along the entire length of the tract to the roadway 

n the blafT above. 

For complete IhtormattoD of terms sod llat ot remaining available lota, alao ratea for picnic 
parties, conventions and camping iocatlona, address 


C. B. LIVERMORE, Manager, 
6is Fmt Avenue SEATTLE. U. S, A. 

Monthly Announcement. 

Seattle Theatre 

J. P. HOWE, Manager 

BeglonlnB BuLdaj Matinee, Ma; IT — 

"The Great Diamond Robbery." 

During the remalodet at Mb; aad June tbe 

Baker Theater Company. 
will present— 

"Little Minister." 

"Miss Hobbs." 

"The Masqueraders." 

COF. Third Ave. and Cherr;. Pbone, Ualn 48. 
PopDlai Prices. 

Tbe beautiful new Spring and Summer 
3tylea In SUkB are now ready. WASH 

Write for aamplee and pricee of beauti- 
ful, new WAISTINGS. We will gladly 
mall them to yau on application. 

niceartby Dry floods Co. 

Second and Madlaon Street, 

Monthly Announcement 

Third Avenue Theatre 


ntlQg Elgbt O 

Week of M»7 ITtb— 

"The Power of Gold." 

Week May 24th — 

"My Jack." 

"The Struggle for Life." "The Prodigal D«OBh- 
tvT, "Sporttng Life" and othera to follow. 

Si^rlal seeoerv (or each and every play. Ev- 
ery detail carefully looked after. 
recV'r*^ N^ ° company of unamial eicelleaee fll- 



Cor. Third Ave. and Hadlson St 


Sunset. Main 567. Independent, 587. 

I*rlces:— 20c, 30c, 40c, 60c 

25,M0 Choice Roses for 1903 

Were Sold at $3.50 a Dozen 

This is a marvelous record. 


to thoee who mention Tbm Com. 

Puget Sound Nursery & Seed Co. 

UOT-IIOO Secand & 

Seattle. D. S. A. 

Speltz! Speltzl 


Write for particulars, do not delay. 


Seed Dept. Seattle, U. a A. 

e mention The C 

Dolume Six dumber One 

JULY, 1903 


In Advance: 


The Flower of Life. 

SK-pec, pur« and beautiful, llle's oa\y Boirrr 
Slioota [ortb Its btidi to bloom In true love's boner: 
SFnse quaSB llie frigrauce of Its being tliere ; 
Heart warme with lo; (o hlTe Itl tender care : 
Mind revels In tbe dream Its glories shoir : 
Soul dnellB Id bllas of home-IWe'B brightest glow. 

I.are'ii fairest fruit. heqr(*s bope and bapplneaa, 
Ilome'e grandest joy tbose bave wbo can possess, 
Who, ere they knew, life's compeDBallon gained 
And. as they died, earlb's gift of lite obtained. 
Ai^^pptlng gladly, wlcb ibe bliss, tbe strife 
or eare and keep— to have Ibe Dower of life. 
May -IS. in03. 


The True Heart's Song 



Sweetbeart. my raving aaul cries out for tbee; 
My vacant bosom yearns and will not silent be; 
My empty arms reach out to (ee) thy form; 
My cheek Is chilled for fiy sweet hlssea warm ; 
My bowels ache with a throbbing, ceaseless pain; 
I pant to oe and live with thee again. 


It wae a sorry day when self became 

The ruler of our hearts and bore our shame; 

It was death's shadows when our faith grew less 

And ties of love were cut for Beiashnees; 

Ah, sweetheart, death draws nigh as I bewail 

The day of hate that to:e our bridal veil. 


Come, sweetheart, let us reunite our hope; 
Cut off from tbee. In mad j'nlng gloom I grope; 
My strength fails, and my hands do not their task; 
O: Let me love and live for thee, I ask — 
Then soul, heart, mind aid body will renew 
The joys of life from which they once withdrew. 
—May 25, 1903. 

ropjrljilit. 1803. by H.mor I,. Wlllipl 

A Typical Lumbering City 


Tbe spirit of a people is In nowise so com- 
pletely monl tested as Is demonstrated In tbe 
Inception, growth and establlshmeDt of a 
city or town. With the varied Interests and 
multlbirioufl coDdltlons In the state of Wasb- 
IngtOD, this Is more apparent than at first 
thought seems. There are Inland cities de- 
pendent upon agriculture and grazing: there 
are mining camps; there are shipping cen- 
ters, industrial points, mill towns, lumber- 
ing and logging camps— In fact, every kind 
at a settlement known; but of all. tbe most 
complex and interesting Is a lumbering and 
mill center. 

Qrays Harbor is especially well situated 
In respect to commercial, industrial and 
shipping advantages In lumbering actlvl- 

[NoTi. — This ardcl? In written and published 
under Ibe antbarit; ot tbe Cbamber al Commerce 
at Aberdeen, WaBhlngtoD. and ever; (Sort baa been 
exerted to procure accurate and correct data and 
fftntp present conditLonB and rcBourcea trutbfullj 
and ffllrljf as (hey really eilst. Thli body of men 
Ib composed of represeiitatWe nierchants, manu- 
facturers and lumbermen, and In tbe Kork of gatb- 
erluK and compiling Ibe material for tbla article 
hn been llbeTall; and loyally aBsiated by many wbo 

mong I 

Geo, Wolff. J. W. ToklaB, J. H. Fuller, 
Bark ley. J. S, Caiey end J, J. Carney. 

ties. Here is an almost land-locked bodr 
of water, extending in from the Padflc 
ocean, with a tide-water shoreline of almoet 
ninety miles, which Is pierced by seven riv- 
ers, ot whlcb tbree are navigable. These 
streams l«ad back to magnificent forests of 
fir and cedar, sucn as have made Westera 
Washington famous as a logging and Inm- 
berlng section. 

This vast wealth of timber has given a 
field for logging operations and nnmeroai 
saw mills, shingle mills, box factories and 
wooden manufactories, wblcb have necessi- 
tated water and rail shipping facilities, all 
of which has resulted in the est^lisbment 
of thriving and prosperous towns and cities, 
the largest and most important of which, in 
this Bection, Is the city of Aberdeen, which 
Is located at the bead of Grays Harbor, 
where the Wiahkah river empties Into that 
basin at the mouth of the Coehalla river. 

Aberdeen is a city of over 6,000 popula- 
tion, and Is a representative lumbering cen- 
ter. Here are many mills, lining the bankB 
or the Chehalie and Wishkah rivers. The 
hum of the busy aaw and the exhaust of 
the active tugs and steamers sound the notei 
of its commercial and industrial song — an 
anthem of thrift and prosperity. 

Samuel Benn was the flrst white man'Eb 


locate where Aberdeen now lies. In 1859 
he took up a claim at Melbourne, on tbe 
ChebaHs river, wbfch be In 1S64 sold, and 
later, in 1S6S, moved and settled at tbe 
moutb of the Wiahkab rirer, wbere he pro- 
ceeded to carve out of the impenetrable for- 
est a borne for blmselt aod tamllr. Amoog 
bU neigbbora were Reuben Redman, Jamee 
PilUngton, I. L. Scammon and William Met- 

Id tbe earlr 80's Qeorge Humes, ol As- 
toria, established a canneiy at the mouth 
of the Wlshkah river, and called his com- 
pan7 the Aberdeen Pacfelug Company. Prior 
to this time. In 1877, the Waschuaaetta 
Packing Company built a cannery on the 
river, which was the first one on the harbor. 

In 1882 San Franclaco parties came Into 
the harbor and established a mill at tbe 
mouth of the Hoqulam river. Prior to this 
time, A. J. Miller had brought some old 
■aw mill machinery across land from Olym- 
pla to the Black river, and floated It down on 
a scow to the mouth of the WIehkah, where 
he had hoped to build a mill. Here he 
landed the outfit, and laid a foundation of 
cedar logs, but lacking capital and credit, 
was compelled to abandon the enterprise. 

In 1884, however. Samuel Benn, observing 
tbe activities In lumbering and shipping 
enterprlsee around him, and believing the 
mouth of the Wlshkah to be tbe best and 
most appropriate , location for a large city 
In this part of the state, secured the services 
of D. W. Fleet, and platted that portion 
ot bis ranch lying at the confluence of tbe 
Wlshkah and Chehalle. and named the place 
Aberdeen, after tbe Aberdeen Packing Com- 

That some year a postofllre was estab- 

liBhed and J. M. Stout, who bad ]uat erected 
the first building In tbe new town, was 
appointed postmaster. 

Mr. Benn, as Boon as he had completed his 
original surveys and platted the town, b^an 
to seek men of means who would construct 
mills and establish monufactorleB, thereby 
building up an Industrial and trade center 
amidst the wilderness of giant fir and mon- 
strous cedar trees which lined the bonkB of 
rivers and creeks and covered the bills In 
the country surrounding. To this end he 
at once offered mill sites and special od* 
vantages, and was In 18S4 re- 
warded by the establishment 
of a amall mill owned by A. J. 
West, who had formerly operat- 
ed In Michigan, and Is at the 
present time part owner of the 
largest plant In the city. So 
vaat were tbe opportunities in 
this section that, at his special 
solicitation, Capt. J. M. Weath- 
erwax, an old friend of his, about 
a year later came out and es- 
tablished the second mill here, 
the Bite of which is now occu- 
pied by the second largest mill 
In the city— that owned by the 
Anderson A Mlddleton Lumber 

In 1884 Adolph Payett opened 
the first store In tbe place. That 
year M. L. Pearson, the first 
physician on Grays Harbor, set- 
tled at Aberdeen. The first 


In 1885 the place orguilEad, with a town 
Gotmcil, and elected J. C. Falrteld aa preal- 
dent. J. C. Pearaon waa appointed the 
town's first attorner. An interesting Btor? 
Is told In this connection: 

Pearson wanted the three towne of Ho- 
qulam, Coamopolls and Aberdeen all com- 
bined Into one city, which he aspired to call 
"Grays Harbor City," and as he was one 
of those who set the boundaries of the 
organization he ran the lines aa tar as he 
coutd towards the two places first named. 
Later, It was found, upon comparison, that 
be bad taken In the graveyard ot Cosmopo- 
11s, when, as he puts It, "They lopped oft 
that forty." 

Id IS90 the town Incorporated as City 
of Aberdeen, of which J. B. Maling was 
elected first mayor; C. T. Wooding, treas- 
urer; J. H. White, clerk, and William Anstle. 
Alex. Young. E. L. Koebler. O. M. Keltogg, 
J. A. West and L. F. Babcock. councilmen. 

li 1891 N. G. Kaufman, who bad come In 
1888. built the first brick block In the city, 
In which be opened a general merchandis- 
ing store. Thus the city grew and pros- 
pered. New mills, new stores, new Indus- 
tries were added, until It became the me- 
tropolis of Grays Harbor, and largest city 
in Southwestern Washington, 

An Interesting feature of the growth or 
Aberdeen was shown In 1895, when the 
mill men and merchants, compelled to haul 
merchandise to Aberdeen Junction, where 

they loaded It on 
the rail cars, con- 
cluded to make tlie 
Northern Pacific 
Railway Company 
give tbem rail ship- 
ping facilities, and 
built a line from the 
Junction to the 
WlBbkah River, 
which they gave to 
I company, thus 
evidencing the splr- 
and enterprise 
which makes and 
builds cities. 

.s Aberdeen is 
situated In the midst 
or the thickest and 
best timber area of 
the State, its first 
and largest Intereats 
are lumbering and, 
l6ehi>eb.\. j^ jj j^ located on 

an especially fine harbor. Its shipping ts 
equally as Important. This, with the log- 
ging and dependent Industries, make it an 
Important trade and commercial center. As 
has been already said, "Aberdeen is a typ- 
ical lumbering city." In Its conception and 
beginning, with its rapid growth and de- 
velopment, unto its present state and lul- 
Qllment, the omnipresent feature la the 
presence of logs, mills, ve&sels and loggers, 
mlllmen. and sailors, with their accompany- 
ing habits ot liberality. Indulgence, and in- 
dependent lite. 

We present views of an Immeoae fir los 
which Wm. Hepfinger, ot this place, has 
secured In the woods near South Aberdeen, 
of which the owner Is to make an exhlt>lt 
at the St. Louis Exposition. This log con- 
tains over 30,000 feet of lumber. 

The West & Slade Mill Company la the 
largest Institution here. It bas a capacity 
of 225,000 feet of luml>er every ten hours, 
and employs 210 men. wltb a monthly pay- 
roll of over tll,500. This company main- 
tain a store, local water plant, shingle mill, 
dry kilns, etc., and have just completed a 
steel refuse burner 40 feet In diameter, 
108 feet high, for the consumption of oftai, 
sawdust and refuse. The officers are A. J. 
West, president; S. E. Slade, vice-president. 
and W. B. Mack secretary and treasurer. 

The Anderson & Middleton Lumber Com- 
pany operate the second largest mill at 
Aberdeen. Their sawmill cuts 125,000 feet 
every ten hours, and the planer bas a ca- 
pacity of 75,000 feet. This plant Is the out- 
growth of the old Weatberwax mill. The 


compaDT emptors 125 peo- 
ple and hu a monthl]' pay- 
roll of $6,600. This Is a 
rail shipping and cargo 
mill. The officers are H. 
N. Anderson, president; A. 
W. Mfddleton, Tlce-presl- 
dent and secretary, and S. 
M. Anderson treasurer. 

The American Mill Com- 
pany has a capacity ot 
125,000 feet every ten 
hours, and employe 75 
workmen. The payroll U 
about |G,000 per month. 
B. F. Johnson is president 
of the concern, and O. M. 
Antrim secretary and 

Wilson Brothers and 
Company would give no 
statistics o( their plant, 
but it la ranked as a 100,- 
000-foot mill. They em- 
ploy about 100 men and 
are presumed to pay out i>Ton 

monthly about $4,000 or 
$5,000. C. R. Wilson Is president and man- 
ager; Henry R. Wilson, vice president, and 
A. B. Johnson, secretary. This Institution 
operates several vessels and Is principally a 
cargo mill. 

The Aberdeen Lumber and Shingle Com- 
paoT operate a sawmill with a dally capacity 
ot 90,000 feet, and two shingle mills with a 
dally output of 225,000 shingles. The pay- 
roll runs about $5,000 monthlr. A. H. Pam- 
ham Is president and E. Hulbert secretary 
and manager. 

The Bryden ft Leltch Lumber Company cut 
GO.OOO teet of lumber daily and operate a 
planer of the same capacity. They have been 
established three yeara and employ forty 
men. This is an exclusive cargo mill and 
ta^t year shipped 14,712,000 feet of lumber. 
The officers are: James Bryden, president; 
C. E. Burrows, vice president; A. P. Stock- 
well, treasurer, and J. H. Leltch, secretary 
and manager. 

The Michigan Lumber Company has Just 
begun operations, but so great Is the demand 
tor lumber that their entire output has been 
contracted for the coming year. At present 
thie plant cuts 56,000 feet of lumber daily 
and employs thirty men. It Is now an ex- 
clusive cargo mill, but the company has had 
a spur built Into the mill and rail shipments 
are made. Qeorge D. Hauptman is presi- 
dent: F. J. aitbert, vice president, and Wal- 
ter K. Morley, secretary and treasurer. 

The Western Lumber Company Is also a 
new Institution. It has just built a mill of 
75,000 Feet with a planer of 30,000 feet ca- 
pacity and when running will give employ- 
ment to Qfty men and have a payroll of 
about $3,000. B. S. Weatherwax Is president 
and W. R. Mactarlane, secretary and treas- 

The Western Cooperage Company manufac- 
ture staves and headinge of all kinde and 
size— tight and slack work. The plant has 
been established eight years and employment 
Ih given Eeventy men. The payroll Is $1,600 


monthly. W. W. Eutinati Is president ; W. 
Sullivan, vice president; G. P. Cterln. secre- 
tary and treasurer. This Is the home office, 
with mills at Fremont (Seattle), and Los 
Angelas, Caiifomta. 

John Undstrom here maintains a ship- 
yard, which he estabtlAed Id ISOS, since 
which time be has hullt seven sailing vessels 
and five steamships. He has lately purchased 
a marine railway, which he Is inatalllng. Mr. 
Llndstrom ts the first ship hullder on the 
Pacific Coast to launch vessels "bow on."' We 
present a view of one o( his launchlngs. 
He has the only permanent shed on the har- 

Other shlpbultcters are; N. A. Springer, 

who constructs fishing boats, vapor launches, 
yachts, rowboats. etc., and employs fourteen 
people, and the McWhlnney Shlpbuitdlog 

The Aberdeen Manufacturing Company 
make general woodwork, boxes, moulding, 
turning, scroll work, etc., for the local trade. 
It was established In 1899 and employs ten 
people. The president Is Geo. B. Huntly; 
secretary. James W. Scott, and treasurer. 
A. A. Damltlo. 

Douglas Brothers operate a foundry and 
machine shop with 12,000 square feet under 
roof. Tbey began business In 1896 and em- 
ploy thirty men. They make twelve tons of 
castings per week and have a monthly PST- 



roll of |2,000. Tb« brotbera are J. R., V. Q. 
And T. Ik Douglas. 

N. Nelson, who established himself In 1897, 
nms a machine shop for new and repair 
work and employs nine men, paying In 
wages $600 a montli. 

J. M. Densmore baa a general forging and 
blacksmith shop, where he employs seven 

J. J. Ryan operates a steam boiler works 
for new and old work. C. C. Warwick has 
a machine and blacksmith shop. 

The Aberdeen Steam Laundry, J. M. Lup- 
toD, business manager, uses flre washers, two 
extractors and one mangle, has the latest 
improved machinery, electric Irons, operates 
Its own electric light plant and gives em- 

ployment to thirty-five people. It was es- 
tablished In 1901. 

The Aberdeen Brewing Company Is among 
the newer industries of Aberdeen. This in- 
stitution manufactures beer which Is con- 
sidered best by users of the beverage of any 
manufactured on the Pacific Coast. Tbe 
plant has a capacity of 600 barrels weekly 
and was opened In May, 1902. Here is oper- 
ated a local ice plant, an electric light sys- 
tem, a cold storage room and Ice cellars, a 
bottling works and all auxiliaries to a mod- 
ern brewing plant. The beer here made la 
known as "The Aberdeen Prima Beer," and. 
In addition to a large local trade. Is shipped 
In bulk quantities to San Francisco, where 
a bottling works are maintained. This in- 


dustry employe twenty-flve people. The olB- 
cera are: Alvln Hemrlcb ol Seattle, presi- 
dent; LoulB Hemrlch ol Seattle, secretary, 
and EmBt Bloch, manager. 

The Grays Harbor Packing Company, T. 3, 
Oormaii, superintendent, has a dally capacity 
of 1,600 caaes and tn season employs 100 
people. The 1902 pack was 32,000 cases. 

The Aberdeen Soda A Bottling Works has 
been established here flfteen years. 

H. L. Cook k Co. operate an ice plant of 
seven tons dally capacity. 

A telephone exchange, H. E. Bailey, man- 
ager, waa established In 1899, has 360 in- 
struments and employs eight people. 

The C. B. Burrows Company, with head- 
quarters here, log along the Humptullps 
river. They employ eighty men and pay out 

At the close of business on May IS, 1M3, the 
Aberdeen State Bank showed a balance shed 
footing up |l< ^,272.37, which embracod cap- 
ital stock, deposits, certified checks and In- 
dividual profits. Hayes A Hayes, a private 
bank, would give no statement, but is sup- 
posed to be on equally as good tooting. 

The postolBce here has 592 boxes and two 
carriers. Sale of stamps In lti02 was fll.DS6. 
Money orders for tbe past six months 
amounted to |62,600. From July 1, 1902, to 
May 23, 1903, there were 1900 registered 

The city operates its ovn water works 
and has over 46,600 feet of mains. An elec- 
tric light plant Is maintained by a private 

The public schools of Aberdeen are of high 

In wages over |6,000 monthly. They operate 
six dams to give them artificial freshets, and 
in 1902 put tn 48,000.000 feet of logs. W^ 
present a view of Uielr boom on the Hump- 

Other loggers are A. F. Coates, Chehalls 
Logging and Timber Company, Grays Har- 
bor Boom Company, Dlneen Logging Com- 
pany, Larklns Bros., H. A, Kalb, James Stew- 
art, who logs along the Wlshkah river three 
miles from Aberdeen and employs forty men; 
Carlson Bros., Gil lis Logging Company and 


Aberdeen today Is enjoying unprecedented 
prosperity. Tn its financial, commercial, 
social, educational and religious affairs a 
healthy activity and strength Is manifested. 

school grade, with a four years' course. Hie 
present enrollment Is over 900, Four build- 
ings are used. The schools are under the 
charge of Superintendent B. B, Harrle, who 
is assisted by twenty-two teachers. The 
board Is C. P. L. Roberts, chairman; 0. P. 
Cierln and A, J. West, with W. A. Crandail. 
clerk. The Academy of St. Rose, a Catholic 
school, Is also maintained, with tblrty-sii 
weeks of school yearly. 

There are ten churches — Presbyterian. 
Congregational, Methodist, Bptscopaliso, 
Lutheran, Swedish Methodist, Scandinavian, 
Adventist, Catholic and Cbrlatian Science. 

Thirty lodges, secret orders and fraternal 
societies are maintained. 

Tbe city supports two hospitals — St Jo- 
seph's Hospital, eetabllsbed 1890, with twenty 
rooms, two wards and five trained nurwi 



and the Aberdeen Qeneral Hospital, eatab- 
llBbed In 1900, with tweiity-Ove rooms, 
twenty-eight beds In wards, one trained nuree 
and elgbt nurses In training ecbool, under 
tlie cliarge of Loulae Lau. 

SteamtMat and steam launcti comiianleB 
afford transportation to nearby towna, ferries 
cross at regular Intervals to the ottier side 
of the river and to Coamopotls. Tlie city 
hu bus connectlooe with hourly service to 

Tbere are tiere two daily papers. The Aber- 
deen Daily Bulletin, an evening paper ed^ 
ited and publtabed by H. D. Crawford, the 
oldest eetabllalied publication In tbe city, and 
The Mominff Bun. edited by William Irvine 
—and one seml-weeltly— rke Aberdeen Her- 

truit culture, grass and agriculture. 

Tbere are numerous botels, reataunnte, 
lodging houses and private boarding honses 
and clubs. Tbe transient travel la divided 
between the Crescent (European) and tbe 
Pacific Hotel (American). 

The Grays Harbor Power and light Com- 
pany, back of whldi Is Jerry Clary of War- 
ren, Pennsylvania, has Just secured fran- 
cblaea for tbe constructing of an electric 
road between Aberdeen and Hoquiam, and 
has deposited f2,500 In each city as a bond 
for tbe fulflllment of franchise rights. The 
coat of this line will be In the neighbor- 
hood of 1100,000. The company will also 
furnish light and power for tbe realdente 
of Aberdeen and viclDlty. It has long been 

Ui — published by J. J. Carney, tbe oldest 
publication in tbe county. 

The city has a steam fire engine of 1,100 
gallons capacity per minute — one of tbe two 
largest in the State — and maintains a Are 
alarm telephone ayatein. 

Tbe present mayor Is A. J. West; clerk. 
P. P. Clark; treasurer, P. 8. Locke; attorney, 
B. H. Fox; marshal, W. W. Anstie, and 
council, H. R. Sherwood, Jno. Llndstrom, 
J. H. Leltch, J. H. Puller, B. P. Ladue, B. P. 
Johnson and Thomas Morgan. 

The climate la the Western Washington 
mild winter and cool summer. 

The soli la of such character that after 
ibe timber is removed It Is well adapted to 

a hope to make one city on the harlxir, and 
with electric connections there seems to 
be a realization of this hope. At the pres- 
ent time buses run each hour. Mr. B. C. 
Finch Is the local representative of the com- 

Thus, we have briefly told of tbe begin- 
ning, growth and development of a Western 
Washington lumbering city, which In April 
of this year shipped, In cargo lots alone, 
over 7,607.000 feet of lumber lagged, cut. 
jured. loaded and shipped within tbe radius 
of a few miles. Here is a city of busy people 
where years ago was a swamp, a swall, a 
wilderness. Today It is a mart of success- 
ful, prosperous people, sending forth Its 



products to the ends of the earth Id vesEels 
made from Its native woods, In Ita own con- 
fines, b; its own workmen. 

As it BtandB, merely a youth In the ranks 
of cities, the great tacllltleB It enjoys and 
the advantages nature and roan have given 
It designate Aberdeen as a leading center 
for trade and commercial intercourse. The 
■Inews for Its growth and development are 
strong, the timber of Its backbone is un- 
limited In staying qualities, and ere anotber 
decade goes by, tbrougb enterprise and en- 
ergetic bustling. It Is no idle dream tor its 

citizens to expect a flourishing and powerful 
center ot population. This will be accom- 
plished by unceasing labor and determined, 

unremlttant efforts. 

Pair Aberdeen, with las* and ihlpa and mllli. 
Wealth QowB to thee from off ibj timbered bllli: 
Slar not tb; aoul and aplrlt with tbelr qnen. 
But, as they seek, aearch out the very best : 
Tlieu give the eartb of thy auboundeil atoce — 
Tboa canat not fail, bat only grow the mart: 
Aa tboa doat set, put forth and tboa wilt sals 
The fature hope thy people would attain. 
Tby ablpa thy produeta wilt coDvey between 
The enda of earth and three, f 

Things of Earth 

with connant, atlll nptbousht 

Tbia atarry nlgbt 
I atand and gat Into the world of apace. 
Tla on aucb nigbta aa tbla 

That ton la take flisbt 
And end a time tbelr varied earthly race. 

Aod we who fret here but 

A little time, 
Waiilns for our aoinnion* deep and clear, 
Will wonder, when we reach 

That fairer clime. 
Why thlnga ot earth could 

Trouble oa ao bere. 

U. F. H, 

**Common Flowers" and Folk Lore 

By AQNBS DBAN8 Cambbon. 

The popular names of our common flowers 
are the names we love, and the correct 
Latinized form affected by the scientist 
seems almost an intrusion or a burlesque. 

If we single out from the whole wild gar- 
den one flower as being more popular than 
any other, and make the children the judge, 
that one will be the daisy. It is the favorite. 
too, of the poets; all down through the 
years, from Chaucer to Wordsworth, have 
they kind words for the *'day's eye/' and not 
one of them is pedantic enough to even hint 
that "Bellis Perenius'* is its ''Sunday name." 

Milton speaks of, 

Meadows trim with daisies pied. 

There is in the whole language no sweeter 
picture of Spring than that given in Shake 
speare's quotation: 

When daisies pied, and violets blue, 
And lady-smocks all silver white, 

And cuckoo buds of yellow hue 

Do paint the meadows with delight. 

And of all Burns' lines not one is better 
known than that exquisite apostrophe to a 
mountain daisy, his "Wee, modest crimson- 
tipped flower," which to him seemed so hu- 
man that it could almost suffer. 

Sicilian legend tells us that the anemone 
(the name means "wind" and "blow") is 
sprung from the tears that Venus wept over 
the body of Adonis. In the case of this 
pretty, delicate-hued flower, the botanical 
name and that used by the world at large 
are identical; and its musical sweetness is 
as familiar to the cottage-children of two 
centuries as it is to the naturalist: 

Bat, oh ! Cytherean ! slain and dead. 

The fair Adonis slain ! 
Her tears, as plenteous as the blood he shed, 

She pours amain ; 
And flowenr are bom from every drop that flows. 
Prom tears the anemone, from blood the rose. 

Perhaps no flower has so many or so 
quaint names as the pansy (the fYench 
"pensce"). Poets call it "love-in-idleness;" 
naturalists, **viola tricolor;" but children 
and grown-ups, too, know it familiarly as 
"pink-of-my-John," "heartsease," or "Jump 
up and kiss me." 

Shakespeare uses the first name of the 

Tet marked I where the bolt of Cupid fell : 

It fell upon a little Western flower. 

Before, milk-white, now purple with love's wound. 

And maidens call it lore-fn-ldleness. 

The learned name for the pure little 
snow-drop is, "galanthus nivalis,** In Bn- 
gland it is called "the fair maid of Febru- 
ary," and for years has been the chosen 
flower worn in processions at the church 
Feast of Puriflcation. The snowdrop is em- 
blematic of virgin chastity and purity, and 
in church decoration in* the Roman service 
is consecrated to the Virgin; the name 
"drop" signifying the pendant eardrop of 
the Sixteenth century, and not a drop of 
snow, as is popularly supposed. 

The little shape, by magic power. 

Grew less and lees, contracted to a flower — 

A flower that flrst in this sweet garden smiled, 

To Tlrglnff sacred, and the snowdrop styled. 

In olden days country people predicted 
the day's weather by open or closed pim- 
pernel flowers. If the little red petals are 
closed, a storm is coming on. So folk-lore 
has given lovingly to the pimpernel such 
names as "poor man's weather glass," 
"shepherd's clock," and "shepherd's weather 

The violet, perhap, next to the daisy, has 
always been a much-loved favorite. 

Dryden has: 

Set rows of rosemary with flowering stem, 
And let the purple violets drink the stream. 

And Milton: 

Underfoot the violet, with rich inlay, 
Broidered the ground. 

The wild violet of the Old World, unlike 
that of this continent, has a sweet, fresh 
perfume, and all the English poets note it. 

S'hakespeare writes: 

O, it came o'er my ears like the sweet South, 
That breathes upon a bank of violets, 
Stealing and giving odours. 

And Suckling says: 

Violets, mixed, did grow ; 

Whose scent so chafed the neighbor air that you 

Would surely swear Arabic spices grew. 

Better known, perhaps, than either of 
these, is Wordsworth's — 

A violet, by a mossy stone. 

Half hidden from the eye ; 
Fair as a star when only one 

Is shining in the sky. 

The name "foxglove" is a corruption of 
"folks-glove," the "folk" being the fairies. 

In Cheshire it is called "fairy petticoats, 
and it is the "fairy-cap" of the Irish. 



We must Dot forget aBotber dear (riend 
of the children, the daffodil. 
Dayton Bioge: 

And Herrlck laments: 

Fair daffodllB, we weep to see 
Yon haste aw ay so aoon. 

Mllton'B elegy, "tj'cidas," has the line: 

Bid dBlladtllles ail their cups with teara. 

Td Rrew the laureate bcarac where Lfcld Ilea. 

And Shakespeare haan't forgotten them: 
DaDodlla that come belore the airalloir darea, and 
Tbe vlnda at March with beaatr." 

The wood'Borrel claims from Its lovers 
some Queer names. The Welsh call It "fairy 
bells," and say that Its delicate white blos- 
soms Bounded forth the alarm which called 
the little people to frolic and revelry. Less 
poetic are the namae the village children 
give It, "bread-and-cbeese," and "cuckoo's 

In "The Athenaewa" appeared an item 
very insular in Intent.— 'To our private 

taste, there is always something a little 
exotic In songs which, under an English as- 
uect ar.d dreas, are yet so manifestly tbe 
product of other skies. They atFect us like 
translations; the very fauna and flora are 
alien, remote; the "{log's tooth" violet is 
but an 111 substitute for tbe rathe primrose, 
nor tan we ever believe that tbe wood robin 
sings as sweetly In April as the English 

This Is surely the voice of a "Little Eng- 
lander," one who has yet to grasp the full 
Intent of tbe term "Anglo-SazoD Unity." 
The Athenaeum sentiment caught tbe eye 
of Rudyard Kipling, and struck from bim 
the finest verse he has ever written: 

Buy mj EDgllsb poll » I 

Ye that hBT« Tonr own : 
Buy them tor a brother's aake 

Weed je trample UDdertoot. 

Flood* bla heart abrim — 
Bird ye aever heeded— 

Ob. she calls hU dead lo him 1 
near our homes are set 'round tbe SeTtn 

The Awakening 

I took ma out to dnd s place alone. 
Where would oat be the bother oC mj fell 
Where I could live : but (oand, wbeo t ha<: 
Life waa to do aod be lor thuse arciind r 
I fled from allent glooiD and lonely wood. 
To act and be for others all I could. 

My Seventeen Mile Ride upon a Tornado 

By UXRBBRT Lawbbncb Gbsenb. 

Tornados, erroneously called cyclones, 
nearly always make their calls toward the 
close of a very hot afternoon. A small 
area of low barometric pressure, upon a 
sultry August day, is a danger signal if 
righUy read. If this condition has already 
lasted some hours, and the telegraphic re- 
ports from the section of country immediate- 
ly surrounding you, showing a similar state 
of facts, suddenly begin to announce rapidly 
fre^ening wind currents, blowing all 
around you, as it were, the area of low pres- 
sure of which your locality is about the 
center, is getting smaller and smaller, and 
the battle of the elements is liable to com- 
mence at any moment — perhaps in your own 
front yard. 

When you were a boy, you remember the 
great bonfire you built one day? It was to 
be the largest "ever seen" — a very triumph 
as to size; it was to be your vindication in 
the eyes of your friends, and annihilation 
to the adverse claims of your enemies. How 
you labored in bringing rushes and reeds, 
in hauling hay and straw, in cutting stalks 
and branches, until, to your boy imagina- 
tion, the mass seemed mountain-high. How 
swiftly, jealous and unfavorable comment 
recoiled upon your revilers when the match 
was applied, and the heat drove you all to 
such a distance, that it gave the lie direct to 
any comments that "it wasn't much of a 
Are anyhow." 

The air was still you remember — ^not a 
breath stirring — until your fire got under 
good headway. Can you not still see the 
flames, which at first crawled up through the 
pyre, climb higher and higher, grow hotter 
and redder, until they fairly o'erleaped each 
other in their seeming attempts to consume 
their own smoke, and at times momentarily 
burned in lurid masses wholly cut off from 
the main fire beneath? Will you ever forget 
the sense of powerlessness which oppressed 
you when the wind, suddenly springing up, 
whipped the ragged tops of the flames this 
way and that, and shot them back and forth 
like the darting head of an angry snake; 
the wind currents came rushing from all 
points of the compass at once, with a sharp 
incurve, to fill the place left vacant by the 
heated air which tore upward in rushing 
currents above the fire, and in trying to 
pass each other, pushed it and themselves 

round and round with a rotary motion, un- 
til up through the natural chimney made 
by the rising heat, they found. the escape 
they sought, and to their gyrating movement 
added an upward trend which made the 
diagram of their course that of an ascend- 
ing spiral. The whirling mass soared up 
and up and up, constantly re-enforced from 
the fire below, while the lateral currents 
crowded the virile twisting mass along in 
the line of the least resistance, like a spin- 
ning top running across an uneven table, 
now turning this way, now t|iat, ever surg- 
ing along, always with a fitful fury which 
amazed you, and you wondered that so little 
a cause as a match applied to a bundle of 
sucks could produce a result so entirely out 
of proportion. 

How the boys laughed a moment later 
when their hats were lifted from their 
heads as if by unseen hands and twirling 
up and again up, fioating away a bit, then 
curving bacK, shooting far off to the right 
or left, live things racing each other, some- 
times almost hidden by the mass of dust, 
straws and rubbish which the same power 
had picked up and was bearing aloft How 
you ran along underneath it, your pursuit 
only ending when the invisible little demon 
tiring of his sport, gradually withdrew the 
support of his sustaining arm and gently 
dropped his prizes at your feet 

Did you notice how you involuntarily 
breathed more deeply and frequently, when 
the whirlwind, touching the ground, sur- 
rounded you, little realizing that the rarifi- 
cation of the air in the center of the whirl 
caused you to struggle for more breath, that 
you might get the usual supply of oxygen? 

You called it a whirlwind. Can you now 
recall the fact that whenever you were pres- 
* ent at one ot these bonfires, upon a still day, 
you invariably saw one or more similar 
manifestations of unusually disturbed air 
currents? That sometimes the whirlwind 
seemed to split into several smaller ones, 
which grew in size and strength until 
eventually they rivaled the parent move- 

In the springtime, when at least every 
second neighbor was burning the accumu- 
lated rubbish of the winter season, you 
have noticed that little whirlwinds were al- 
most continually sweeping the roads, lawns, 



and fields, filling your eyes with dust and 
appropriating the papers which you had 
piled upon the window-ledge. 

Perhaps you have never connected the 
two circumstances — ^the fires ana the whirl- 
winds. Those same frisky little nuisances 
were trying hard to teach you the secret 
of their birth, growth, and movement, but 
your ears were too much filled with the 
sound of laughing voices, your eyes too fully 
occupied with the sport of the moment, to 
notice it, and your attention must again 
be called to the time when nature was upon 
familiar terms with you, and I must now 
remind you of sundry nods, which you did 
not see, and many lessons which you failed 
to comprehend. 

The tornado is a monstrous whirlwind. 

Largely multiply all tnese manifestations 
and you wiU have the proper conception of a 
tornado which bears an exact proportion to 
the size of the multiple used. 

Substitute the sun for the fire. The earth 
in a given locality, sweltering under the 
«un's rays, in turn reflects them and super- 
heats the already stifling atmosphere, until 
its ever increasing expansion and the re- 
sulting lightness cause it to rise rapidly, 
and break through the weakest spot in the 
unwarmed strata just above it This hav- 
ing formed a chimney through these cold 
levels in its upward flight, oceans of heavy, 
chilled air, pressing down upon the heated 
mass, which extends for leagues on either 
side of the now rapidly extending shaft, 
causes the hot air to flow rapidly toward the 
only place where escape is possible — up this 
tempestuous flue. 
To get a better conception of what next 
takes place, put the plug into the hole in 
the bottom of your wash-bowl and fill it 
with water. Scatter over the surface a 
sprinkling of ashes or sawdust. When the 
bowl is emptying itself, the movements of 
the currents formed by the escaping water 
will be indicated by the dust. Now pull the 
plug. The telltale particles begin to move 
slowly at first, then more rapidly, as they 
circle round and round the center, con- 
stantly approaching it, until finally they are 
engulfed in the funnel that whirls the water 
into the sewer-pipe. The tendency of water 
is to escape downward — that of hot air to 
escape upward — both are moved by the same 
lorce — gravity — differently applied. Imagine 
if you can, the bowl inverted and filled with 
hot air instead of water, the air filled witr 
dust, and the plug removed. The same 
phenomena seen before in the bowl will now 
again be in evidence, but the contents will 
be whirled upward instead of downward. 
Now in your mind's eye, locate yourself in 

the . track of this overpowering, whirling 
body of upshooting air, and imagine iC 
large enough and strong enough to lift a 
train of cars, and there may pass in review 
before your startled vision some of the ex- 
traordinary things which might happen. 

Constantly fed by the warm air from be- 
low, these ascending spiral currents will 
continue to mount as long as the bottom 
of the funnel maintains its position in hot 
air and the renewing supply of heated cur- 
rents continues. When the tornado has 
moved laterally outside the circle of the 
overheated section of the earth, and the 
air next to the ground is cool, the tornado 
dies. The heated air composing it, if un- 
renewed, gradually cooled by the cold at- 
mosphere surrounding it, loses its power — 
its fires are out — and the propelling force 
already on hand will serve but for a mo- 
ment — that tornado, as an institution, passes 
into history. 

In the center of a tornado, corresponding 
to wnat you saw in the wash-bowl, is a 
spiral shaped space, which is a partial 
vacuum. This is what made you catch your 
breath, as a boy, when the whirlwind cen- 
tered over and surrounded you. While the 
tornado keeps its lower end upon the ground 
the air is partially exhausted from this 
area by a sort of immense centrifugal air- 
pump — the bottom of the opening in the 
tornado's center being closed by contact 
with the earth, and the top of it narrowing 
to nothing, as the currents rise, cool, and 
ultimately lose their power, and their speed 
slackens. The centrifugal motion, stretches 
out the sides until the air in the center, 
which normally filled a comparatively 
small space, is now compelled to occupy one 
much larger. By this process, the contain- 
ed atmosphere has become so rarified that 
its pressure has been materially reduced 
from its normal fifteen pounds per square 
inch. Let this circle once completely en- 
close a building, in which the air pressure 
is normal, and the walls will be blown vio- 
lently outward. Any considerable difference 
between the two pressures under these dr 
cumstances is sufficient to disintegrate any 
building structure ever erected by man. 

You have now much more information 
about a tornado, than I had when I started 
upon my eventful ride. My experience in 
the air has served to correct quite a num- 
ber of the tornado theories, which have 
hitherto found themselves masquerading 
as laws in the text-books. 

I had just purchased a grain elevator, 
upon one^ of the trunk lines of railway west 
of the Missouri river, and with a large force 
of men was engageu in renovating it for 



the Fall business, even then commencing. 

The sultriness of the day had caused 
some of the men to stop work, while others 
had labored on through it, to drop their 
tools with a thud, when the first blast of 
Lhe welcome six-o'clock whistle reached 
them. As they were leaving the building, 
one of the helpers, noticing that a storm 
was approaching, called my attention to the 
eleyator roof, in which was a man-hole, the 
cover of which had been removed to afford 
air and light. The Journey up long ladders 
to the top of a large elevator is no small 
task on a cool day — on a hot one it is 
heartbreaking. After sundry rests I 
reached the opening, and squeezing my arms, 
head, and shoulders larough it, reached for 
the cover which lay upon the roof. My 
advent seemed to be the preconcerted sig- 
nal for a general bombardment of gravel, 
sticks, stones, shingles, bits of wood, and 
other missiles. A quick glance to the right, 
and I saw all the shingles ripped clean 
from that end of the roof, and from each 
nail-head, thus bared, a steady stream of 
blue fire burning brightly. A wagon- 
box, hurled against the ventilator on the 
top of tne building, was the first warning 
that reached my consciousness that I was 
in the midst of a tornado. An explosion, 
which jarred my teeth and bruised my legs, 
lifted the section of the roof through which 
I was hanging, and I saw the cribbed sides 
of the elevator pushed out beyond the edge 
of the roof and dashed to the ground, a mass 
of kindling wood. I could hardly breathe; 
there was no life in the air; my body 
seemed suddenly swelled almost to the point 
of bunsting my clothes, from the change in 
the atmospheric pressure. In the certainty 
of impending death 1 tasted of nature's gen- 
erosity and thoughtful consideration — all 
fear was removed. But why did I not strike 
the ground? Suddenly my breath came back 
to me and my pain ceased. I felt a falling — 
then a lifting — then a swaying. I remember 
that I thought the sensation like that of 
sailing in a small boat, in freshening winds, 
upon rather heavy seas. I had left the 
vacuum-like center of the storm and was 
riding easily in its rim. 

The clamor was frightful. Nature's mu- 
sicians roared, whistled, sang, thundered 
and crashed, sometimes in quick succession, 
at others rolling into one tremendous 
orchestration all these effects, varying tSie 
different parts as their titanic leader en- 
couraged or suppressed them, and imbued 
it with a spirit that made it seem at times 
a grand BfarseiUais. 

I made bold to open my eyes. The sec- 
tion of the roof, about twenty feet square, 

hanging through the center of which I rode, 
must have been several thousand feet above 
the earth and was gyrating round and round 
upon its own axis and following the orbit 
of the storm, which seemed to be fully a 
quarter of a mile in diameter. My craft 
floated somewhere near the center of the 
rim section of the whirling giant, kept in 
place laterally, with reference to its position 
in the tornado, by the more or less perfect 
balance between centrifugal force and that 
incurving power of the hot currents, which 
was caused by the pressure of the atmos- 
phere upon the outside, which was trying 
to reach and fill the rarifled air space in 
the center. We are kept right side up by the 
operation of the same forces which miJie it 
possible for the magician to whirl a card 
to the rear portion of a theater and back 
again without a flutter.' 

All sense of responsibility had left me. 
My mind seemed to become that of a child, 
who sports with death as a playmate and is 
surprised when the spectre strikes in earnest. 
I remember that I was greatly annoyed 
when the platform of a handcar rushed by 
us, wearing the look of one passing us in a 
race. I felt keenly a sportsman's discomfi- 
ture at unmerited defeat and chided the roof 
section as if it had been a horse. I viewed 
with pleasure the gain which we made upon 
it in the next few seconds, when because 
of the momentum resulting from our great 
weight, we passed safely through a curious 
downward current, which carried our less 
weighty rival down into a cloud abyss. 

With a triumphant straightening of the 
neck we again turned our attention to the 
course. By this time it had certainly be- 
come crowded by the numerous entries in 
a free-for-all, handicap, hurdle race and I 
seemed to have been started at scratch. I 
was later to feel the unfairness of the hand- 
icap when, fianked by a wheelbarrow on one 
side and a saw-horse on the other, we rode 
hard at a big black bunch of dust cloud. At 
it we plunged — a hundred miles an hour. 
Their lightness carried them over — we went 
through it — and I got the dust out of my 
eyes Just in time to see the wheelbarrow col- 
lide with a Joiner's bench, and the saw- 
horse bolt the track to chase a fiying church 
steeple tipped with a golden ball. The en- 
tries were legion. The course was filled 
with every conceivable article current in the 
use and commerce of a small town. A book 
case scattered learning in chunks as it 
rolled and tumbled along — had it weighed 
out at the finish, it would have been dis- 
placed for discarding weight. A sidewalk 
and a grapevine arbor broke the double har- 
ness record, open for all ages. A fence. 



which for years had been looked down upon 
by a big cupola^ suddenly got a rise in the 
world, turned the tables, and patronisingly 
looked an apology for passing it Among 
the racers who were rushing about and 
joggling each other, society lines were 
wholly ignored and caste walls were levelled. 
A column from the portico of Colonel Lei- 
cester's house glanced hurriedly into Biddy 
O'Qorman's kitchen mirror, to see if its cap 
was on straight, and forthwith dofPed it to 
Ole Oleson 8 wife's carpetloom, which caught 
the pillar amidships. Jimmy Flynn's game- 
cock still clung to his roost riding the air 
like a witch upon a broom-stick, and cap- 
tured the susceptible heart of Birs. James 
Lionel Sackville-Smart's cuckoo clock, which 
followed him off uttering the weird cries 
common to her mountain race. The barn- 
door hobnobbed with the hat-rack; the gate- 
poet kissed the weather vane; the parlor 
carpet embraced the pig-stye; the front 
steps reclined in the arms of the garden 
seat; and an **old maidish"-looklng New Eng- 
land whatnot coquettishly shook its cork- 
screw, window-putty, grapevine curls at a 
pearl-inlaid Chinese cabinet, that had travel- 
led with her in the same car some years 
before, and had unwittingly reduced the 
fortress ot her heart. 

An unwontedly great commotion now 
seemed to agitate a part of the course. The 
tornado seemed to have switched off a por- 
tion of its force, and started another whirl- 
pool into which my late comrades were 
drawn. So quickly did it all happen that 1 
hardily knew of it before they were whisked 
out of sight. We had the race to ourselves 
to the next quarter post, when my anger 
was thoroughly aroused at the sight of an 
overgrown wood-shed and a table endeavor- 
ing to pocket a churn. The poor chum was 
driving along at a furious pace, sweating 
great drops of buttermilk, its dasher rattl- 
ing a vigorous and inspiving tattoo. My roof 
section seemed to take in the situation at 
a glance, and crashing Into the wood-shed, 
distributed it generally, dipping under the 
churn just far enough to pick it up and 
carry it along. The gratitude of that churn, 
whose very life may have been saved by my 
magnanimous roof, was quite the usual 
thing upon a race course. When we ap- 
proached what seemed to be the end of all 
things — the race included — the churn coolly 
jumped off the front and won the race by 
its own length. Indeed we may consider 
ourselves fortunate that he did not support 
the protest of the wood-shed, displace us, 
and clandestinely divide second money. 

As I have just related it did seem to be 
the final winding up of our somewhat 

tangled affairs. Directly in front of us the 
dust laden tornado was pierced by an im- 
mense, sharp-pointed finger of clear air and 
we saw a vista of bine sky. The mm, which 
had hitherto seemed but an evil eye slilBing 
with a bloody and threatening U^t, tMme- 
times almost Invisible, now shone upon us 
with a warmth, splendor, and frtendliness, 
the more appreciated because of the sudden- 
ness of the change. Tlie great incorre of 
the spiral must have met witii an anmmally 
strong, piercing wind which deflected some 
of its currents and cut as out from the 
storm. We were hissed by tlie storm lle&ds; 
then, seeming to regret it, they joined in 
what might well have been our requiem. 
We commenced to fall rapidly throngh the 
outlying air-strata. We drove off to the 
right, the left, to the front, to the rear, in 
giant shoots, our downward flight being 
largely checked in the same manner in 
which the air breaks the fall of a card when 
dropped from a horizontal position, where 
it had been held by the thumb and flrst 
flnger lightly touching the middle points of 
the longer sides. So buoyant and pleasant 
had been my existence for a few minutes 
that a seeming lessening of the apparent 
comparative safety again awoke my fear, 
and I wondered how long the irregular flight 
to the earth would last Ehren checked as 
it was, the speed offered even chances of 
life and death. We had fallen almost to 
the earth — only a few hundred feet inter- 
vened — when the second great event of the 
day happened. 

The tornado, charging about from one 
place to another, caught up with us^ again 
and sucked us into its grasp. This' time, 
feeling for the moment fairly safe, my up- 
ward trip gave me an opportunity to study 
the storm, and calculate with some degree 
of probability my chances of escape. My 
limited knowledge of tornadoes had taught 
me that they die when the supply of heated 
currents fails. As long as we kept on going 
up or remained at the same level it augured 
well. A slight descent might mean but little 
— a continuous dropping would mean default 
on the part of the power. But in any event, 
when we commenced to fall, would the power 
be withdrawn so slowly that we would drop 
gently, or would we be precipitated to the 
ground from a height of several thousand 
feet, with nothing save the questionable para- 
chute qualities of the roof section to offer 
the smallest possible avenue of escape? 

We were fast skimming over an unculti- 
vated section of country, the surface of 
which was a succession of sloughs, bogs and 
ponds, and our speed was slightly decreas- 
ing. Since being caught up by the tornado 



ttte Becond time, we had been traveling 
around in its broad rim altogether nearer 
to the center than before. Our lessened 
speed was in some way working a disad- 
vantage to the centrifugal element in the 
combination of forces which held us in place, 
and we continued to circle closer and closer 
to the center. 

To my horror, I now discovered a real 
danger of which I had not thought before. 
The central well or flue of the tornado, 
probably then reduced to a diameter of about 
two hundred feet, contained an atmosphere 
Bo rarlfled that if we fell into it, a repetition 
of our former card-like drop would be pro- 
portionately faster according to the ratio 
which the densities of the two differing at- 
mospheres bore to each other. To that drop, 
unchecked by any additional buoying power 
exerted by the rim of the tornado, there 
could be but one conclusion — complete de- 
struction. A sudden drenching pried my 
eyes from the dust-laden air currents to 
which they had been glued by the frenzied 
seal of a frightened man, looking his death 
causes in the face, and, glancing below me, 
I could Just make out that we were passing 
over a large lake. The tornado had formed 
a water-spout in the lake, and tons of cold 
water had been pumped aloft, cooling the 
heated currents and Impairing their lifting 
and driving power. I realized that our race 
was nearly run. The renewal of the hot air 
currents from below had almost ceased, 
owing to the cooler temperature of the wa- 
ter over which the tornado was passing. 
About all the real power it had left in its 
composition was an accumulated force, sim- 
ilar to that which remains in a shaft upon 
which is fastened a large balance-wheel, 
which continues to revolve for some time 
after the driving force has been cut off. 

Those V were terrible moments. 

Nearer and nearer we drifted to the dread- 
ed gulf, bottomless save for the pitiless 

surface of the lake thousands of feet be- 
neath. Its diameter was rapidly narrowing. 
We touched its edge — were hurled back a 
little, describing around it an irregular 
spiral-like curve, constantly nearing its edge 
for the last time — our doom imminent. At 
last the spirit of the storm, seeming to feel 
a contempt for one whom he had protected 
so long, but who now doubted his rescuer's 
ability and even questioned the honesty of 
his motives, spurned us with a repudiating 
kick, and we shot out over the pit. 

The tornado was rapidly losing its force. 
My only hope was that the well, which 
would grow smaller as the whirling force 
lessened, and flU up with air from the bot- 
tom if the base of the tornado left the earth, 
would either shrink in time for its sides to 
catch the edges of my falling roof, or fill up 
from below quickly enough to cushion my 
fall. I felt myself taking short, quick shoots 
here and there, jarred and knocked about, 
and dropping at a terrific rate. It was in 
that fall, I think, that my hair turned white. 
Before I had gone a thousand feet I shut 
my eyes in terror and entirely lost all con- 
sciousness. Only the involuntary stiffening 
of my arm and shoulder muscles kept me 
from slipping through the man-hole. When 
consciousness returned and I next opened 
my eyes, my hope had been realized in both 
particulars — my swift downward flight had 
been checked, and gracefully whirling 
around upon the gently lifting currents with- 
in the very apex of the now nearly extinct 
tornado, we settled down as gracefully as 
an eagle resting from its flight, and dropped 
with hardly a splash, upon the surface of 
the lake, where I floated upon my strange 
craft for more than an hour. 

When rescued I was seventeen miles from 

A comparison of watches showed that I 
had been in the air a trifle over eleven min- 

Loue Is Life 

A barren Isrle, 

A desert sand, 
A painful smile, 

A lifeless hand, 
A sunless day. 

A cloudy night, 
A cheerless way, 

A sick'ning sight, 
A living death, 

A restless bed, 
Decaying breath — 

If loye be dead. 

etana. Waihinuton. 

of Auinv Smith. 2 K 
l«Dce ot KcT. Cbu. 11. I 

Montesano, Washington 

Western WaBbln^ton Is famed throughout 
the world for Its vast and valuable timber 
resources. Here nature seems to have sown 
the seed for the acme ot operations In lum- 
bering and to have reached the limit ot ad- 
vantases and facilities la their conduct, tor, 
with nnmeasured and boundless forests of 
flr, cedar, spruce and hemlock covering tbe 
areas of mountain, dale and valley, there ex- 
ist countless navigable waterways, natural 
highways, and harbors tor Its transportation 
and Bblpment. This Is especially so ot Che- 
halls County, which embraces wltbln Ita 
boundaries sections of most densely timbered 
lands and Is noted for Its lumbering re- 
sources and facilities In lumbering open^ 
tlons, manufacture and shipment. For, 

., .__ J BDHlnesa Men's Clnb, 

which vouchei for the authenticity sod reliability 
of the itatemeutr therein contained. Thia orianl- 
utlau was estabilahed Id 19O0. and has a mem- 
berahlp of over afty, which Inclndea the leaiUii) 
Bad to rem oat basInpSB meD ot the city. B. O. 
Cheney U prealdeut, aad Bldrldge Wheeler, lecce- 
rary. — The Editor.] 

Chehalls County has one ot three harbors 
for sea-going Teesele between San Francisco 
and Puget Sound; It embraces the pass of 
lowest altitude through which the Chehalls 
River flows on Its conrse from the Upper 
Sound country to the ocean; It Is covered 
with a network ot navigable streams along 
which lie acres of valuable timber awaiting 
the band of man to claim tor manufacture 
and consumption; it has prairies and valleys 
ot fertile soil tor agricultural and grazing 
purposes; Its timber is varied — being ot flr, 
cedar, hemlock and spruce; Its mountains 
are presumed to contain mineral and coal 
wealth; Its shore line has given evidence of 
petroleum and gas; in fact, this county has 
all the resources to maks it a complete and 
independent district; but, because of the 
enormous preponderance of Its timber, only 
lumbering, as yet, has claimed the attention 
ot the people living within its confines. This 
county has the largest amount of timber 
standing In the State which the Federal gov- 
ernment estimates at 27, 632.000 ,000 teeL 

However, there are other Important re- 



sources. The pioneers of Chehalis County 
were rural. They came from the Upper 
Sound country with their herds of cattle 
and their farming outfits in quest of homes 
and a field for operations in their agricul- 
tural, grazing and dairying pursuits. Out 
they pushed until they reached the Black 
River, down the valley of which they Jour- 
neyed until they found the bottoms of the 
Chehalis, where they located. Many of these 
settlers located along the Chehalis River 
and a settlement sprang up near the mouth 
of the Wynooche River and was called Mon- 
tesano. This was in the early fifties. 

near the mouth of the Wynooche, in 1860, 
in charge of Isiah L«. Scammons. In 1873 
M. F. Luark built a sawmill on Silvia Creek 
near the place. 

In 1855-56 the country was almost depopu- 
lated by the Indian outbreak. The Indians 
had killed several people at Connel's Prairie, 
on the White River, and times looked gloomy 
here; but, the Flatheads and Chel^alis war- 
riors backed down and did nothing. How- 
ever, stockades were put up and a fort built 
at Mound Prairie, where the settlers stayed 
nine months ready for business. The militia 
were in charge of Capt. Hennis. After the 



The first settler in this vicinity was C. F. 
Porter, who came west in 1852 with the Fre- 
mont expedition and took up a claim on the 
prairie, where the present town ofMontesano 
now lies. He was followed by James H. 
Roundtree, Mr. Armstrong, who built the 
mill at Cedar Creek; John Hole, Mr. O'Leary, 
Charles Byles, Isiah L. Scammons, James 
Smith and others. A postofflce named Mon- 
tesano was established at the settlement, 

settlement of the Indian outbreak people be- 
gan to come into the country. 

In the early days all the supplies came in 
overland from Olympia to Shotwell's, and 
from there down the river. James Smith 
relates that from bis place, twenty-five miles 
up the Chehalis River a road led to Olympia, 
over which he would haul butter and pro- 
duce by oxen team to exchange for supplies. 
The trip usually took four and five days. 
Butter sold for from four bits (50 cents) to 
nine and ten bits a pound. 



WhcD ChehaltB County was organized 
Montesano was designated tbe county seat. 
Knowing that the place had not been platted, 
Samuel H. WUllams purchased tbe land on 
the prairie north of the river and proceeded 
to lay out a town which be named Monte- 
sano. Before tbe people of the original set- 
tiemeat were aware, be had gone before the 
legislature and bad the plat recorded and 
named. He claimed the county seat and, 
after a short struggle, secured It. Then he 
got the poatofflce. The old town took the 
name of Wynooche, which It has at this day. 

The first physician In the county was 
James H. Roundtree, whose wife was the 
Brst white woman and gave birth to the first 
white child bom In tbe county. The first 

for rural pursuit, with uplanda heavily cov- 
ered wlUi choice timber of a nature well 
adapted, after removal of trees, for hay lands 
and range, and especially to fruit culture. 

Montesano la at the head of tide-water 
navigation upon the Chehalls River and la 
on a branch of the Northern Pacific Rail- 
road. Boats whfcb take cargo from Aber 
deen can also take ahipments from here, 
which give it rail transportation to all parts 
of the United States and water route to alt 
parts of the world. 

Located as It Is, Montesano offers especial 
Inducements to manufacturers of lumber and 
woodenwork. Here booms can be built in 
the river to catch logs floated down from 
above, obviating tbe necessity of towing ex- 

rhoio bii J. A. auffi". "i(onte»oiio, WatMnoton. 

Store at Montesano was opened by John Es- 
mond in ISS3. In 1SS4 the city was organ- 
ized and in 18S6 Incorporated under a special 
act of the legislature. The first president 
of the council was Thomas ItfcQllI and the 
first mayor M. Z. Qoddelt. 



Montesano is situated fourteen miles from 
the mouth ol the Chehalls River, where it 
empties into Qrays Harbor. It is the county 
seat of Chehalls County and has a popula- 
tion of about 2,000. It is in the midst of a 
proeperous agricultural and dairying com- 
munity. Upon all sides and directly tribu- 
tary are dense forests of untoucaed fir, ce- 
dar, spruce and hemlock. The country is 
of fertile prairie soil and rich bottom land 

penaes. The people also otter tree sites for 
mills and manufactories. The city is close 
to the raw material and much timber can be 
worked up which would otherwise be cast 
aside as not worth shipping by rail to the 
outside mills. Here, also. Is the farmer witb 
bis produce ot farm and dairy to render liv- 
ing expenses less the expense of freight and 
express. The mills now here before tliey 
began to operate had sold their entire out- 
put and have now contracted for their prod- 
uct to be shipped in cargo lots by vessel. 

Already operations are conducted in log- 
ging and In order to taciUtate this industry 
and enable those engaged to meet the enor- 
mous and taat Inereaaing demand for timlwr, 
railroads are being constructed in various 
directions from Montesano to reach the trees 


Photo bi/ J. A. Oii/rin, Montetano. Waehington, 

and carry them to the rapacloua and ever- opening for a sash and door factory, as a 

huagry mills. We present a map showing plant equipped with machinery awaits the 

contemplated and proposed lines in use and proper man. A paper mill would find a 

under construction. desirable fleld for operations, as quantities 

When the land Is logged oR it is adapted of cottonwood, alder and spruce are here 
to grazing purposes and orchards, and when found. With this the shipping facilities 
cleared the fertile soil produces excellent make It a desirable location. 
crops. There Is now much such land. In When the manufacturer gets close to the 
regard to cleared land, It Is reported that raw material and saves the expense of 
last fall a tract of thirty-eight acres was freight; when the workingman can pur- 
bought tor 13.000 and the following spring chase produce direct from the farmer; when 
sold for $6,000. the money brought Into a community from 

At this place there la a most excellent outride ehlpmenfi can thus circulate among 

PHoto by J. A. Qnttin. Uontetano. HotMntiton. 

employer, laboring man and producer, It 
means permanent and Increasing prosperity 
for tbat locality. 

The Montesano Lumber Company success- 
tullj operates a sawmill here. The Chehalts 
County Logging and Timber Company Is 
building a sawmill. Others are In contempla- 
tion. This means that the opportunities 
and advantages here offered are being ac- 
cepted and the facllltlee utlllied. 

The logging companies operating In this 
vicinity are the Chehalls County Logging and 
Timber Company, Hack Logging Company, 
Frank H. Lamb Timber Company, C. B. 
Clemens, John Biles, Oeo. H. Arland, J. J. 
Johnson, Chas. Neeson, and numerous small 
operators. These people employ a large 
number of men and have monthly payrolls 
putting thousands ol dollars into circulation. 
Wages range from tS.GO up. 

vlth a capital stock of 126,000, of whlcb A. 
established 1901 (the continuation of Carr * 
Carr, established 1807), with a caplUl atock 
of 126,000, of which F. L. Carr is president 
and F. W. Byles cashier. 

Montesano Is especially a home town, wltli 
the pleasures and accompaniments of a Btabl« 
and permanent population. Social, educa- 
tional and religious organisations flonrlab 
and are liberally supported. The city baa 
numerous church organ ications, of which 
the following have houses of worship: 
Methodist Episcopal, organized In 1860, 
Presbyterian, Cbrletlan, Catholic. Other de- 
notnlnatlons have organizations. 

To show the progress in agricultural pur- 
BulU, we present views of two ranch homea 
—that of Mrs. Peter Oberg, who la the 
daughter of A. J. Smith, one of the pioneara 
and that of Andrew Smith, a son. These 

Pham by J. L. Ford, /'orlland, Oregon. 

Montesano as a city Is admirably located 
upon a prairie, which rises In terraces, from 
which an excellent drainage leads Into the 
Chehalls River. Beautiful shade trees and 
cozy homes line Its avenues, and In ttae fer- 
tile soil of Its dooryards, gardens of beauti- 
ful shrubs and bushes grow, while busy and 
prosperous stores compose Its mercantile 
pursuits. It enjoys the privilege of an ex- 
cellent system of water works whlcb were 
Inaugurated In 1S93 and baa a modern elec- 
tric lighting system. Sewers were put in 
ten years ago and a local telephone exchange 
is maintained. The streets are graded and 
plank sidewalks extend throughout the city. 

Two banking Institutions are maintained — 
the Montesano State Bank, established 1897 
(the continuation of O. W. Hertges, banker, 
who bought the Bank of Montesano tn 1890), 

are among the finest homes tn the county. 

There are numerous lodges and secret 
orders and social clubs and societies. 

The public schools here are of the best In 
the State and far in advance of many places 
much larger in size in the Elast. A tsn 
years' course ie maintained and In tbls con- 
nection it is interesting to note that In 
May last a class of twenty-six waa gradu- 
ated. At tlie same time an entire class of 
thirty passed the eighth grade, or grammar 
school, examination composed of uniform 
questions aent out from the State suirarln- 
tendent of schools — a record unequaled thus 
tar In the State. The board Is composed 
of H. B. Marcy, chairman; F. L. Carr and 
J. A. Hutcbeson, with H. M. Sutton clerk. 
Prof. Eldridge Wheeler is principal, with 
elgbt teachers and ten grades. 


The OAffAoli* County ViOette, establlehed early-dar Incidents herein embraced, 

twenty j'eara ago, owned by James B. Mac- The city offlclalsare T. M. Bryan, mayor; 

DougKll, Ifl publlfllied at this place, and to D. W. Fleet, clerk, and F. A. Tarr, G. W. 

Its flies we are Indebted for much of tbe Nmemlre, J. W. Hall, J. F. Taylor, J. C. 

D. Devonehlre Ifl president and W. H. France btewart, F. W. Byles and Bldrldge Wheeler, 

cashier, and the Monteeano National Bank, councllmen. 

Live to Loom 

I wlah I coald IItb (orever, 

Aa the brooklet that nina to the lei. 
With a merry, gay long 

For a da; ever long. 
And a life wlthont Badneia to me. 
I'd lire, and IareT«r gWe bleaalngi 

To tbe man; whoM gorrowi are great 
Wltb the bnrdena and rares 

Ot ■»«'■ ««d aSalre, 
And who itrnxgle against cruel fate. 
Bnt tbe brooklet eonld never llie erer, 

Were It not born again : 
For It enda In the lea, 

Tberc burled to be. 
Until It'i lent back In tbe rain. 
And my life can never be erer, 

Bnt my deeda will live erer long; 
Bo I'll lire «■ I shoald. 

To lore and do good — 
And drive aadneaa away witb a long. 


"Perdicaments" of a Pauper 

By Elixabbth T. Mills. 

It was always a mystery, and always will 
be a mystery to some folks, how Jamie Rob- 
bins ever came to do such a thins as to 
wreck a train. Poor, simple, care-free Jamie, 
with his utterly harmless ways; how he could 
baYe deliberately planned to throw the south- 
bound train off tl^e track and, moreover, not 
only executed the malicious scheme once, 
but two times within three months. This, 
indeed, was a mystery, and one, too, that the 
l»ublic was in no way likely to unveil. 

Yet the fact is still patent that he did it, 
for Jamie is now resting supinely in the 
istate's prison. His life sentence was a 
slight penalty for the awful damage that he 
did. To pin four men down under a great, 
hissing, steaming engine; to throw passen- 
gers into a horrid condition of entangle- 
ment, with shrieking fear and doomful 
darkness all around — and all of this for four 
thousand Mexican dollars. 

Public sentiment ran high at the time of 
the trial; and it is more than likely that 
Mr. Jamie would have been served with very 
summary and abbreviated form of Justice 
had there not been something so perfectly 
irreconcilable with crime about the looks 
and actions of the accused. Hopeless, help- 
less despair, but nothing wicked was written 
upon his fair boyish face. His great stalwart 
form was bent with the thought of what he 
had done; and his supple frame seemed loos- 
ened to the extreme of shaking palsy, as he 
day by day came shambling into court to 
listen to the awful details of his awful do- 

Among the young folks where he lived, 
high up in the mountains, a sort of plateau 
settlement in one of the coast counties in 
Southern California, Jamie was looked upon 
as a sort of "fun stick." No country gath- 
ering was considered complete without his 
presence. The boys used him as a foil for 
their practical Jesting, and the girls kept 
themselves in a constant state of tittering 
by the replies that he made to their repeated 
and open attempts at leading him into a 
proposal of marriage. 

"Come, now, Jamie," one bright-eyed dam- 
sel would say, in the presence of four or five 
others; "you know that you've promised to 
marry me; now, how are you going to sup- 
port me?" 

"Wall, that is a perdicament, that's a fact," 

he would reply, in a sort of half jest, half 
earnest. It mattered not how many of them 
claimed that he had promised to marry 
them, he never denied the soft impeachment, 
but was always constrained to admit that it 
was a "perdicament," anyway. 

"Well, how will you get my ribbons, and 
clothes, and gloves;?" the merciless little tor- 
mentor would insist "I must have lots of 
finery to keep up my wardrobe, I can tell 

"Oh, I reckon we'd be able to dig 'em out 
of maw's potater patch." 

To which the undaunted would return 
without discomposure: 

"And how would you get the good things 
to eat?" 

"Out of paw's pigpen, perhaps." 

Then the boys would attack him on some 
score or another; and so the evening went 
merrily whenever Jamie was around. He 
never seemed to grudge them their fun at 
his expense; yet, like most innocents, he 
frequently turned the tables upon them all 
in good shape. 

There came a time, however, in Jamie's 
life when marriage w&s no longer a Jest 
It was, indeed, a most sober and serious con- 
sideration; and one, too, which was as much 
of a "perdicament" as this poor fellow could 
by any possibility have gotten into. It all 
began when he went to work for the widow 

She was a tall, masculine woman, with 
keen gray eyes, and hair that was always 
combed back tightly from a hard, heavy- 
looking face. Not a prepossessing appear- 
ance, though always neat; and a staving 
good hand to work and manage a farm. She 
could turn a furrow as neatly as any man 
for many miles around. Her fences were al- 
ways in perfect condition; no one's stock 
ever trespassed on her premises. 

There was a keenness about her whole 
presence suggesting undue appreciation of 
her own rights to such an extent that this 
quality reached the point of avariciousness. 
If she thought a possibility existed whereby 
she could bring the turn of the law to aid 
her in getting possession of any rights, ri- 
parian or agrarian, she would hasten to a 
lawyer and make the most searching inves- 

She always had managed things, her has- 



band being but a shadow of her wishes. The 
only evidence of his personality was that 
she bore his name; and some even doubted 
this, averring that she compelled him to take 
her own instead. Certain it is, that when 
she finally managed to get Jamie Robbins 
under her control, he always went by the 
name of Jamie Robbins Phillippi. 

I remember as well as If It were yesterday 
the first inkling that we had that Jamie 
was to change his name. My brother and I, 
who had been spending the winter months 
and a portion of the summer in these moun- 
tains, were coming over the divide; Just 
where the mountain opened into a long sweep 
outward to the plains below. We stopped 
for a moment to look down; we always did, 
it was such a long, carefully worked-out 
plan of nature, almost panoramic in its ef* 
feet. Jutting stone and sharply Indented 
angles of trees all were subdued to the gent- 
ly moulded form of brush or shrub by the 
softening shadow of the mountain; and far 
into the distance where the sun yet lin- 
gered upon the trail wound the roadway up 
to the downy bosom of the mountain. 

A wagon was coming slowly up the way. 
It was still some distance from the foot of 
the ascent, yet we could distinctly see the 
outline of the two occupants, for it was 
sharply contrasted by the bright glow of the 
setting sun. Two black silhouettes, they 
seemed against a golden background. 

Something In their actions aroused my ' 
brother's attention, and he reached under 
the seat for the field glasses, handing the 
reins to me while he adjusted the focus. I 
was somewhat surprised, for he was not in- 
ordinately curious; besides, it was rude to 
spy on your neighbors. 

"Aren't you ashamed?" I said, reproach- 

He kept on looking Just the same, and his 
face assumed the most tantalizing smile, 
while he held a worse than tantalizing si- 
lence. Finally he could no longer suppress 
his feelings, and he threw back his head 
and burst into the heartiest laugh I had 
heard him give in six months. It is need- 
less to say I took up the glasses myself and 
looked. As I, too, burst out laughing he 
wiped his eye-glasses, which were wet, with 
fun-provoked tears and man-like, said: 

"Aren't you ashamed of myself?" 

I wasn't a bit; for we had both been wit- 
nesses of the most absurd bit of love-making 
that could possibly have been invented. The 
man was evidently a stranger to the proceed- 
ings; for at first he held aloof, and was only 
won by repeated efl!orts on the part of the 
woman, who wound her arms in great ges- 
ticulations about hlH unresisting form. He 

was at last compromised, we Judged, for she 
laid her head upon his shoulder for some 
time; their team stopped, and, so far as they 
were concerned, the world and all about was 
as naught 

"It's poor Jamie Robbins," I said to my 

"That's so," he replied; "and I guess he's 
in his worst 'perdicament,' poor fellow. 
That woman is a tartar." 

This all occurred the week before the old 
man Phillippi died, which was rather precipi- 
tate; but, then, every one knew that the 
old fellow was doomed. He couldn't possibly 
recover, and why wait? Jamie was young 
and strong, and easily managed. 

There had been another possible candi- 
date in the field« who was, also, a laborer on 
the plantation of Mrs. Phillippi. His name 
was Sy Perkins, but he was always called 
"Sly" Perkins — a name which was partlcn- 
larly applicable to the bearer thereof. It 
was, also, no doubt, with the fear that "Sly" 
might be a better schemer than herself, that 
the widow relinquished this hope, and set- 
tled upon the good natured, unsuspecting 
Jamie. He could be counted on with accur^ 
acy, and was manageable. He'd do. 

All went well for three years and more 
after they were married; and Jamie had 
quite a family of children with his own and 
his predecessors, growing up around him. 
He grew old very fast, though, and lost his 
happy hearted, care-free appearance, almost 
entirely. Tet everything prospered on the 
farm, and money was deposited regularly in 
the bank. 

This ought to have satisfied most people; 
but it did not seem to. The first attempt at 
wrecking the train going to the Mexican 
borderland was a financial failure, owing to 
the prompt rescue of tl^e derailed engine by 
the engineer and fireman. Much damage 
was done to the machinery but no lives were 
lost. It was possibly for .this reason, and, 
too, because of a failure to convict at this 
trial, that Jamie was led to make a second 

It was certain at the second time planned 
that a large amount of coin was on board. 
The night was stormy, the rails slippery, and 
with a terrific momentum the great train 
sped into the open switch at the crossing. In 
a moment the ground was covered with brok- 
en timbers and glass; fires blazing from 
many portions of the demolished coaches 
soon lit up the scene and showed the pale 
faces and prostrate forms of passengers and 
crew. Rain came down heavily to add to the 
melancholy of the scene; in the trees the 
wind roared aggravating the hissing steam 
and other confusion, and worse than all were 


tbe cries and gnwiiB of Uie paueugen. 

Stooping over the foremost man who was 
plnnwl down bj the engine, groaning and 
crying for some one to ehoot him, while the 
hot steam pressed upon him hearllr; was 
the horror atrlcfeen face of a roung man. 

"O Ck>d, what a predicament; If I'd only 
known — I'd never " 

"Come along, ron cry-baby; we've got the 
sack." And with this be was whlaked away 
long before the olScers or any outside help 
arrived on the scene. 

It was full four months before the detec- 
tives got track of the culprits. For, thou^ 
Jamie was saspected, there was nothing 
definitely known about his being guilty. The 
coin, which waa all In Mexican dollars, had 
been carried to the town below and hidden 
In a stable under the hay. Later "Sly" Per- 
kins went to ArlEona where he received 
amounts of It shipped for exchange. It was 
by this means that the first clew was found 
and vsry soon after the guilt was fastened 
upon Jamie, poor Jamie Robblns PhllUppl. 
Somehow, dreadful as the crime was, I 
never could believe that Jamie did it. Mly 
brother defended him, and I said to him 
one day Just after the trial was over and 
Jamie was safely landed In the state's 

"No one can ever make me believe that 
Jamie did that wicked thing; I'll never be- 
lieve it." 

"He never denied to me, but what he did 
do It; really I don't know what In the world 
saved his neck," was bis unassurlng reply. 

"There were others Involved then, tbat 
were far more guilty than ever poor Jamie 
dared be," I asserted strongly. 

"Possibly so," rather deliberately. 

"I^en why In the name of Justice dont 
you bring her — bring them to an accounting 

"What's the use; there's the children, why 
deprive them — 0, It Is all over; let's not talk 
about It any more." 

"Tell me what Jamie said to yon before he 
left, and I'll promise never to mention the 
subject again." 

"He came Into my offlce with the tears still 
on his cheeks after bidding his wife and 
babies good-bye, and said: 'Are you sure tiiat 
I'll never have to come back to these parts 
again to llveT' and there was a piteous nots 
in his voice, as if he had looked again upon 
the dead and dying of his own killing. I 
said: 'To the beat of my Judgment, I'd say 
not.' Then his face stopped quivering, a sort 
of peace came such as I hadn't seen In it he- 
fore, and be said: 'Thank Qod for that' " 

"Is there, Uien, no chance for a pardon 
ever?" I asked. 

"I shall probably never feel It my dut7 to 
make the effort, and the matter rests npoa 
this last finding. 

Photo bff J. 0, 8teama. Uaguiam, 

Brok« the Law tho Worse. 

John B. McDonald, the popular author IIt- 
InB in C^den, Utah, In converaatton with ser- 
eral other literary lishts, related the follow- 
ing anecdote; 

An IrlBb policeman brought a teamster be- 
lore one ol our municipal courts, charging 
him with faat driving "within the citr lim- 
its." The prisoner plead not guilty on 
strength of the fact that hlB faat driving had 
been done five miles from the court house, on 
an open piece of road where hausee were few 
and scattered. The Judge attempted mildly 
Co censure the arm of the law, although, of 
course, he had to Impose a light Hne upon 
Uia prisoner. But Pat, the policeman, was 
indignant, and almost lost his Job by declar- 
ing vehemently tliat the Judge had no fine 
understanding ot the law. 

"Because," said Pat, "aven If tbe prisoner 
(Md do his fasht dhrlvln' far out in